


Only Human

by Cate Shaw (Bluebell84)



Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Children, F/M, Fassy - Freeform, Flirting, Sex, Widow, single mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 09:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell84/pseuds/Cate%20Shaw
Summary: Hannah had it all.  The perfect life; a doting husband, three wonderful kids, a house in the suburbs. But that all changes quickly, devastating her perfect world.When her husband Brent dies, leaving her alone to raise their children, Hannah isn't sure she can go on. But time seems to heal all, and before long, she's found a new normal.That is, until a handsome stranger comes into her life. And helps reveal to her that not all was as it seems.  Perhaps her husband wasn't perfect. Perhaps her idyllic marriage wasn't what it seemed.





	1. Chapter 1

I don't want to be here.

I shouldn't have come.

Do you ever feel lonely in a crowded room? Surrounded by the ones you love most? The conversation and laughter is all white noise at this point. I can't even focus on a single word said. My head is spinning. Maybe this was too soon. I'm not ready.

I stared ahead at my three beautiful children. They were giggling, coloring in their kids' menu. They've been through so much, but you'd never know. Their sweet, innocent faces didn't show the wear and tear their young hearts were forced to face. I know mine did. My smiles were forced. I envied my kids. Their whole lives ahead of them and mine at a dead end.

My oldest, Amy, looked my way and shared a kind smile. Only eight and she could read me like a book. She knew me best. To show her I was fine, I smiled back and glanced away, looking over the menu. The words all blurred together. 

Taking a deep breath, I tried to concentrate. I needed to get my shit together. I didn't *want* to get my shit together. What I wanted was to be left the hell alone, but when you're responsible for the lives of three kids, you can't afford that kind of luxury.

Children don't allow you to wallow in self-pity for long. Someone always needs their ass wiped, or to eat, or be read to, or they need help tying their shoes. By the end of each day, I'm completely drained and want to scream. I don't even cuddle with my babies anymore. I can't.

I look past the top of the menu, at the face of my middle child, Robbie. He's scribbling all over his menu with a cheap red crayon, but he's having a wonderful time doing so. The simplest thing. Or maybe it's excitement for not having to choke down yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Amy makes him for dinners. The guilt sits heavily in the pit of my stomach.

I should at least teach Amy how to use the stove. She could learn to make macaroni and cheese. And set the house on fire and this would all be over with finally.

I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. The guilt grows heavier. I feel tears prickling under my eyelids and I fight them off. Not now. I won't break down now.

"Ma'am? To drink?"

Swallowing hard, I look up at our server patiently waiting for my drink order. She smiles, out of habit.

"Tea. Iced tea, please," I manage to get out.

The baby starts screaming. A crayon is thrown across the table. I knew it was too soon. Anger boils inside of me. Why did they beg me to come? Why couldn't they just pick up the kids and let me sleep?

Amy picks up the crayon and hands it back to the baby, James. "No throw, Jamesy," she says to him in a sweet voice. She's so patient with him.

The crayon is thrown again, landing in front of me with a bounce. I slam my hand down on it, not meaning to. All eyes are on me now, if they weren't already.

"Don't throw, James." I utter, sternly. I keep the crayon with me and rip off a piece of bread from the basket on the table and place it in front of him.

James greedily grabs it and stuffs it in his drooling mouth. 

My sister, Stephanie, places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I internally curse at James for throwing the crayon. For forcing me to speak up. For reminding everyone I'm still here when I'd rather be anywhere else but.

Another forced smile. "Just tired."

"Mom, color with me?" Robbie asks, hopeful.

I pick up the crayon James had thrown and reach across the table, coloring in the dancing ice cream cone. 

"Want me to keep the kids tonight?" Steps asks.

I shake my head. I tell her no, but inside I'm screaming 'please, please yes.' 

"I'll be fine. We're fine. Besides James' molars are coming in and he'd keep you up all night anyway."

Steph shrugs. "I get a full night of sleep every night. One night of taking care of a baby won't kill me."

She doesn't realize it, but what she said hurts. Because she has no idea when the last time I got a full night of sleep was. She means well. She always does, yet her words still cut.

'Please, please take them. Take them and keep them.'

"No thanks. Maybe next weekend?" I don't wait for an answer.

"Color, Mom!"

I continue to scribble with Robbie.

Stephanie returns to the conversation at the other end of the table. Our Dad and Step-mother, and Aunt, Uncle, and cousins are all together tonight for dinner. It's Uncle John's birthday and he's the man of the hour, seated at the head of the table, soaking in all the attention everyone is giving him.

By the time dinner is over, James is restless, yelling out that he's "stuck," trying to squirm out of the plastic high chair. My food remains relatively untouched. I ate a few fries, but I mostly fed them to James. 

The server returns with a take-away box and I place my burger inside. Maybe Robbie can eat it tomorrow for dinner. He and Amy can split it.

Another pang of guilt.

I stand and unbuckle James before he causes anymore commotion. Resting him on my hips, I wipe his drooly face off with a napkin and tell the kids it's time to leave.

Of course, Robbie protests. "But we didn't have dessert!"

"Sorry Robbie, but James needs to go to bed. Maybe next time," I lie, praying he'll just accept it and shut up.

"No no no! Cake!"

Steph reaches across the table, placing a hand on Robbie's angry fist.

"We can bring the kids home after dessert," she says to me. "You take James home and I'll bring you a piece of cake too."

The anger makes my chest start to swell. My ribs feel like they'll splinter from the pressure.

"No. Thank you, but no, Robbie needs to listen to me. Let's go, Robbie. Amy, grab the diaper bag."

Robbie growls but pushes his chair back, standing.

"Happy birthday, Uncle John. Sorry we can't stay longer."

I make my way to his end of the table and kiss his cheek. I don't make eye contact with anyone else but Steph.

"Bye sweetheart. Take care of yourself," he smiles.

'Take care of yourself.'

Like it's that easy. 

James fights me as I buckle him into his car seat. He screams and kicks and I keep my hands away from his face, knowing he's not above biting. I can feel eyes on me, from people in the parking lot making their way into the restaurant. 

I'm sure it looks like I've kidnapped him.

By the time everyone is buckled and I enter the keys into the ignition of the minivan, I'm crying.

My forehead meets the steering wheel and I scream with my lips pressed together tightly, controlling the volume. I feel better, but the tears don't stop.

The children are silent, knowing better. 

I pull out of the parking spot and head home. 

The drive home is silent. I'm certain the baby has fallen asleep in his seat, possibly Robbie too, but I don't look back to check. I wipe my cheeks with the backs of my hands.

They're the only reasons I'm still here, my kids. If I had agreed for Stephanie to take them, there would be nothing to stop me from driving directly into oncoming traffic. My life is at a dead end, but they are the faint street lamps keeping the road lit. 

I make the turn towards the gated community where we live and hear a pop. The van rumbles on the road and I can feel something is wrong. I look out the rear view mirrors to see if I hit something and pull over.

Parking the car, I glance back at the kids. Robbie and James are indeed asleep. Which means I'd have to make two trips to get everyone inside and tucked in.

Amy looks at me and loudly whispers, "What happened, Momma?"

I shush her and feel another pang of guilt. 

"I don't know, I'm going to find out. Sit there and don't wake your brothers."

I climb out of the van and circle the vehicle until I find the front right tire completely flat.

A fed up sigh shudders its way out of my mouth and I squeeze my fists together in frustration. 

So close to home and we get a flat. My mind goes blank. I'm not even sure what to do. If I knew how to change it, I would. I don't even know if we have a spare.

I open the hatch and Amy peers over the back seat. "What happened?"

"We have a flat tire," I tell her, rummaging through the endless toys and trash. I brush aside a pile of blankets and find that we do have a spare.

Relief washes over me. Not that we are saved, but it is a pretty vital step in the right direction. I dig for a lug wrench, wishing the sun wasn't setting just yet so I could see better. A flashlight would be nice too. 

No lug wrench. I drag the spare out and drop it to the ground next to the van. I roll it toward the flat and stare at the hubcap. I suppose I'd need a jack too. Fuck.

I'm am completely worthless. I sit on the spare and cry, burying my face into my knees. 

'Fuck fuck fuck!'

I hear movement in the van and I know it's Amy. I don't bother to look up. I silently beg her to stay in the van, to not touch the windows, to just let me react to this and to be.

A steady click-click-click startles me and I lift my face. Amy had turned the hazard lights on. She's in the passenger seat now, looking at me through the window, looking much older than eight.

A pang of guilt.

I should call someone. Dad, Uncle John.

I stand and tap the window. Amy rolls it down, ready to listen.

As I'm about to ask for my phone, a car comes down the road. It slows as it passes the van and I see the driver looking at us.

Guilt is replaced by fear. It's a man and he looks big and I'm a single mother with three young children to defend. 

I smile and give him a thumbs up, letting him believe everything is okay, letting him know he can keep driving, he can go on and forget about us.

"Get my phone," I tell Amy as the car pulls over in front of us.

She's still rooting through my purse and I hear a car door open and close between the deafening pounds of my heart in my ears.

He's coming this way. I see him smile but they all smile. It's Serial Killing 101. Gain trust by appearing nice.

"Hi there," he says as he nears. He's got an accent. He's a long way from home.

Amy is still digging for my phone so I grab my purse from her in case I need to hand it over to keep him from harming us.

"Need help?" He asks as he eyes the flat.

"We're fine," I smile back. "My husband is on his way. He's a mechanic, so we'll be fine."

"Oh, you sure? It's not a problem. Could save him a trip. Got a jack and wrench in the boot," he gestures back to his car with his thumb over his shoulder.

'Please leave leave leave.'

"We have a flat tire," Amy informs him, sticking her head out the window. Suddenly she looks her age again.

"I can see that," he lets out a laugh, amused by Amy suddenly popping up. "It's really no trouble. I'll go grab it."

He turns and opens the trunk of his car and I look him over. He's big. Tall and muscular but on the lean side. His torso tapers at his waist and I watch him bend into the trunk, reaching for his tools.

I look back at Amy. "Roll the window up and lock the doors."

"Would you mind turning the engine off?" He steps next to me, carrying a jack and a lug wrench like promised.

I look at him for a while before tapping the window, telling Amy to take the keys out. 

He hunkers down and gets to work immediately. I keep my eyes on him, watching as he works. The sun is kind enough to hang in the horizon, casting just enough light for him to work. The low light hits his hair, giving it a subtle reddish tint to match the rugged beard hugging his jaw. Fear is slowly subsiding but I remain on high alert.

The hubcap comes off and he loosens the lug nuts before placing the jack beneath the van to lift it.

Inside the van, Amy laughs as it jerks up inch by inch. I hear the guy chuckle and I can't help but join in. Amy's face is lit up with her smile.

"Should I get my kids out while you do that?" I ask him. "My boys are asleep, but I can get them out..."

"Probably," he turned his head toward me, a smirk appearing. "But it's fine. Let them sleep. Just ask Miss Giggles to keep still, if you don't mind."

Suddenly, I'm extremely grateful for his help. That isn't to say I feel comfortable with his help, but I am thankful the tire is being changed.

I make sure to watch each step he takes so that I can do it myself if it ever happens again. I have a lot to learn now. I can't always rely on someone else to know what I don't know. It's never going to be like it was before. No more yin-yang. I'm now both the yin and the yang.

He quickly replaced the tire with the spare and put the lug nuts back in place, then the hubcap before lowering the van again. More giggles from Amy, this time with her hand clamped over her mouth, not wanting to get into trouble for moving.

I looked back at the boys, snug in their car seats, sleeping peacefully still. But step on one squeaky step on the stairs at home and they'd wake right up.

The man brushed his hands off on the sides of his blue jeans and offered to roll the flat to the back of the van.

"It's fine, I can take it from here. Can I offer you anything?" I pulled my wallet out of my purse and opened it. I didn't have any cash and my cheeks pinked. "I, uh, I have this grocery gift card. I think it has $50 on it. Please take it," I pull it out and extend it toward him.

His eyes light up but he shakes his head. "Keep it. Just my good deed for the day. And thankfully just before the sun sets, otherwise I'd have to do two tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

He nods and notices Amy staring through the window. "Positive. Get your kids some ice cream next time you're at the store and we'll call it even."

I chuckled and tucked the card back into my wallet. "That's good enough for me." I glanced back up. "Thank you. Really."

"Well you're welcome. Couldn't just leave you stranded on the side of the road." He stuck the lug wrench into the back pocket of his jeans and tucked the jack under his arm as best as he could.

"We better go," I nodded my head towards the van. "Gotta get the kids in bed, but, again thank you. So much."

"You're welcome. Hopefully you can call your husband back before he makes the trip out here." He gave me a wave, then Amy, and turned away, heading back to his car.

"Right... I will. Thanks. Bye."

After getting the tire onto the pile of crap on the back, I climbed back into the driver's seat and started the van back up. The guy was already gone by then.

Amy smiled at me and asked if she could stay in the front seat. 

I playfully glared at her and she giggled. "Just this one time. Buckle up."

Amy watched out the window, the new point of view exciting to her. A few more turns and we were pulling into the drive of our five bedroom home. Amy hopped out of the van immediately and ran inside, leaving me to bring the boys in. Not that she could help really, but it felt worse without her presence.

I carefully moved James inside first, holding my breath as I placed him into his crib. He rolled over to his side and sighed but he didn't wake up. I pulled his blanket up and quietly stepped out of his room to do the same with Robbie.

Robbie woke up and needed to pee. Thankfully he was sleepy enough to want to go straight to bed after. 

"Night, Mom," he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

I ran my hand through his hair and kissed his cheek.

I quickly checked on Amy, who was already tucked into bed, watching Minecraft videos on her iPad. Her eyes were heavy, so I didn't disturb her.

In my own room, I stepped in and closed the door, leaning against it for a second before feeling relief. The day was over. I'd survived another one. And then, just like every night, I saw the bed and my heart sank into my stomach. Would this feeling ever cease? I pushed away from the door, too emotionally drained to invest in yet another cry session. I'd already hit my quota for the day.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth before undressing and shrugging into an oversized tee. Climbing into bed, I sighed heavily, the heaviness of another day washing away with the promise of potential sleep. If only James would sleep through the night, just this once. 

Every night before drifting to sleep, I try to think of three good things that happened during the day; an exercise my doctor has encouraged me to try. It took a while and though sometimes I can only think of one thing, it's become part of my nightly routine. 

'I showered this morning. The kids didn't fight with each other. A kind stranger stopped to help me with a flat tire.'

I began to think about him, the stranger. Sadly, these days most people would drive right on past, but he didn't. And even though I tried, several times, to send him on his way, he still helped. He saw through my words. Maybe he knew I was lying, maybe not. Even so, he insisted. And I survived it. The evening could have ended far worse.

I fell asleep wondering what his name was, and wishing he had taken the gift card anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

I was in the middle of dreaming about the stranger using his jack to lift me out of bed when a small hand touched my cheek, waking me up. It was Amy, and it was dark. But her silhouette is unmistakable.

"Mommy? James is crying."

I groan and roll over. "Let him cry, he'll be okay." I glance at the time and see it's only two in the morning.

Amy didn't move. "But Mom, he's been crying for a while."

My eyes feel coated with sand and my body doesn't want to move, but I force myself to sit up. I turn the bedside table lamp on and give myself a minute to adjust to being awake.

"Okay. I'm up. Go back to bed, Amy. Maybe he just has a wet diaper and he'll go back to sleep too." I stand and follow her out the door.

Amy returns to her room and I crack open the door to James' room before the smell hits me. He does need a dry diaper. I walk in and reach for him. He's extra fussy but quiets as I sit him on my hip.

I lay him down on his diaper table across his room before I realize I've touched something slimy. Being two in the morning and the fact that I'm more than half-asleep, I wipe my hands on the sides of my shirt. Then panic sets in. I quickly reach for the switch of his low-light lamp specifically for nighttime and discover James is covered in his own shit.

Instantly, my brain wants to just shut down. This is too much right now. Being a mother of three, I've grown to be quick on my feet, and quick witted, but lately, well, if it's time to fight or flight, I choose the latter. 

Groaning, I figure the best thing to do is stick him directly into the tub. I grab him and we head for the bathroom. I turn the light on with my elbow and place him carefully into the tub.

James immediately stands, his poopy fingers gripping the side of the tub.

"No, no, no, sit... sit down!" I get to my knees and turn the faucet on.

James whines as I tug his shirt off over his head. I ball it up and toss it into the sink, which I'll clean out later when the rest of the world isn't sleeping. He lifts his feet up one at a time, helping me get his pants off. The pants too get tossed into the sink. 

At this point, I've touched enough poop where I'm no longer grossed out but determined to get this baby clean. I peel his diaper off and wrap it up as best as I can with toilet paper before sitting it into the bathroom trash can. I take my shirt off and continue my work in just my underwear.

Using toilet paper, I wipe the worst of it off my child and flush it down the toilet. Cupping my hands, I splash water over his little naked body and use my hands to wipe him. Over and over, until the noticeable bits are gone. 

I wrestle with James to get him to sit in the shallow water. When he finally does, I lather him up, scrubbing him well. Once he's clean enough, I drain the tub and do it all again for good measure. We're both wide awake by now, so why not.

He's just a baby but I want to be so mad at him. Why couldn't this happen in the daytime? I didn't even think about the mess in his crib as we returned to his room to get dressed.

'Fuck.' I groan and consider yelling for Amy to help, but decide against it.

'I'm the mother. This is my job, I can handle this.'

I grab a diaper and a pair of pajamas for James and we go back into my room, where I place him in my bed. I get him dressed and find a new shirt for myself.

The clock reads 2:25 as I climb into bed with him, hugging him close. The mess can wait til morning. I turn the light off and stay as still as possible so James will fall back to sleep quickly.

It takes a few minutes but James finally settles and his little snore makes his body vibrate under my arm.

•••

I jolt awake, my heart pounding, feeling for the baby. He's still there, he hasn't moved. He's sound asleep, for now. 

The clock reads 4:12 and I know Robbie will be up soon. For some reason that kid doesn't sleep past 4:30 am. Amy will be up by six.

I'm still in the same position I was when I fell asleep with James and my arm remains trapped under his heavy head. I stretch out my legs and my lower back screams at me with shooting pains. Carefully, I slip my arm out from under James and roll over. I will feel him if he moves. The mattress is old and every single movement is not only felt, but heard.

I want to close my eyes but I can sense Robbie waking, so I watch the door for him. It takes a few minutes, but the knob finally turns and slowly the door swings open. Robbie peeks his head in, his cowlick on the back of it sticking straight up. 

A finger over my lips, I motion for him to keep quiet and show him James, asleep on the bed. Robbie climbs up the side and rests next to me, with me in the center between my two boys.

"Mommy?" Robbie whispers.

My chin rests on top of his head and I hum once, waiting for what he wants to say. 

"When's Daddy coming home?"

I close my eyes and sigh. We've been over this. A hundred times, maybe more. 

"I don't think he is, baby."

I should just tell him the truth, but the truth will raise more questions. He's four. He's not ready.

I'm not ready.

"I'm hungry," he says next.

"Okay, there's Pop Tarts and apple sauce pouches in the kitchen."

"I want cereal."

I knew he was going to say that. Getting him cereal requires more effort than I can manage at the moment. 

"Robbie, if you can just have a Pop Tart, I'll let you steal Amy's iPad so you can watch cartoons while you eat it. But you have to be quiet."

Robbie kicked his foot, but he gave in. The mattress shook with his kick and I felt James shift.

"Go," I whispered harshly, aggravated with him already.

He climbed down and left the room.

I heard him downstairs in the kitchen. Something fell or was dropped but there was no crying so I didn't care.

Robbie came back in. "Momma, there's no more Pop Tarts. Amy eated them all!"

He did not whisper this time and James woke up. 

•••

Once Amy woke up, she ate cereal at the kitchen table with her brothers, James in his high chair. They split the last of the Cheerios between them. I wrote 'cereal' on the grocery list and looked it over. The list was long. It's been a while since the local church dropped anything off. Casseroles were long gone as well.

I took the opportunity to clean up the baby's room and to scrub the tub and sink in the upstairs bathroom while he was strapped into his high chair. With Amy home to keep an eye on him, it was one of those rare moments to get something done. And for some reason, I had the energy to do so. I could see the hope in Amy's eyes; that maybe things would finally go back to normal. It was both motivating and disconcerting.

The washing machine was spinning, the dirty dishes were moved from the sink to the dish washer, and with Amy's help, everyone was dressed, their hair and teeth brushed. Life felt a bit normal. Except it wasn't. It was easy to pretend Brent was away for work. It was easy to pretend he was off in Europe for a week, settling mergers and whatever else he did for work. I never paid attention to what his job entailed. It always went in one ear and out the other.

Yes, it was easy to pretend he was simply away for work and he'd be back, but he wasn't, and he wouldn't. And all the pretending in the world wouldn't make the heaviness in my heart disappear. 

Now our lives were filled with what-ifs. What if I'd done something differently, would he still have walked out the door that morning? 

Nothing like a screaming baby to snap you back to reality.

"I stuck!" James shouted, tugging on the straps of his high chair. 

Amy and Robbie giggled at their baby brother as they dropped their bowls into the sink.

"Mom, do you have $5 for my lunch?" Amy asked.

I groaned, remembering I didn't have any cash. Her bus would be here any minute and I didn't make her anything. Not that we had food anyway.

"Sorry baby, let's see what we've got." I opened the cabinets.

Boxed mac and cheese, canned corn, canned tuna, and every spice known to man. I cranked open the can of tuna and spilled it into a zip loc baggie and pulled out a row of crackers. I tossed them into her lunch box along with a juice box and the last granola bar. Better than nothing.

Amy made a face upon seeing the tuna as I closed up the lunch box, but then smiled for my sake.

"I'll go to the store, I promise."

"Can I get a toy?!" Robbie asked, jumping up and down.

"No, maybe... we'll see, okay?" I was exhausted already.

I needed to shower, get the van to the shop to replace the tire, get Robbie to preschool by noon, and get the groceries. Plus the laundry would need to be folded and all the while I'm expected to remain sane while grieving. 

Whatever phenomenon had washed over me this morning to give me this surge of energy was wearing off quickly. I was already crashing. My bed was calling and I was eager to answer.

"Bus is here!" Amy shouted and ran out the front door with her backpack and lunch box. 

"Bye baby. Pick you up after school."

Robbie and I left the kitchen and watched from the front door as Amy climbed up the bus steps with a wave. James was still complaining about being stuck. After closing and locking the door, I went to unbuckle him.

If I was going to get shit done today, I'd have to get going. No time for a shower. 

The boys played in James' room while I combed my long dark hair and pulled it back into a pony tail. I quickly pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a bra. I slipped into the first clean shirt I could find. I looked awful. Dark circles under my eyes, crows feet in the corners, and dull skin.

But this is me. This is the role I've been cast in. A role I didn't ask for. Would anyone ask for this? Doesn't matter. It's me now. 

I pinched my cheeks to give them a bit of color and went to gather up the boys.


	3. Chapter 3

"Noooo! Nooooo!" James screamed, wriggling in my arms as I tried to keep my phone to my ear.

"Hello?" Steph answered. "Hannah? Is everything okay?"

I stretched my neck away from the baby as best as I could.

"Yeah, hi, sorry, I'm at the auto shop with the boys."

If she had said something, I couldn't hear her. I quickly sat and put James down, but trapped him with my legs so he wouldn't run off. He continued to cry, wanting to shake the gumball machine by the entrance.

"You're... at the auto shop? What happened?" Stephanie sounded surprised and I didn't blame her. Last night was the first time in a very long time that I've left the house.

"We caught a flat last night and I'm getting the tire replaced. But I'm with the boys and I think I'm in over my head..." I could feel my voice threatening to crack.

"Okay, okay, I'm on my way. I'll be there in five and I'll take the boys to the park. Hannah?"

"Hmm?" I let James go and he took off, just as I knew he would, beelining for the gumball machine. He smacked the glass with his little palms and babbled.

Robbie laughed and joined him.

"I'm proud of you. I'll be there soon."

I hung up and kept my eyes on the baby. The gumball machine was, thankfully, bolted down, but I still worried. Robbie encouraged his behavior by smacking the glass too, trying his hardest to twist the knob to force a gumball out.

James was screaming in my arms again by the time Stephanie showed up. He'd been trying to go past the counter and into the garage of the shop. 

"Stuff!" James exclaimed when he saw his aunt.

"Stuff is here," Steph laughed, taking him into her arms, kissing his head.

"Aunt Steph! Do you have a quarter?" Robbie tugged on her shorts.

"I don't, but hey, you guys wanna go to the park and play? Let Mommy do this boring stuff by herself?" Steph smiled at me with a wink.

"Thank you," I whispered, running my hands through Robbie's hair. It was getting long. He needed a hair cut and soon.

"No problem! Why didn't you call us last night when you had car trouble?"

I shrugged. "I handled it."

"Hmm. Well I'm impressed. I think I'll take the boys to the park by my house. Want to come over for lunch?"

"Can we get McDonald's??" Robbie begged, still tugging on my sister's shorts.

"Robbie has preschool at noon, and I have to get groceries."

"Please Mom!" Robbie turned his attention to me.

I should have stayed home.

"Okay, here's the plan," Stephanie held out her free hand, taking Robbie's. "We will swing by your house and grab your backpack, then stop by McDonald's for some Happy Meals, and have a picnic at the park!" She looked at me and added, "And I'll get him to school on time. You get groceries, do whatever you need to do, okay? If you need to take a nap, fine, it's cool. I'll keep James and pick the kids up."

I shook my head, "No, that's too much."

"Well too damn bad, it's what's happening. I can't have babies and you have three, so share, okay?"

I let out a surprised laugh and gave in. "Fine."

"And I'll bring dinner over."

"Stoppp," I softly whined. "Really, it's too much!"

Stephanie smirked. "Tough. Say bye Mommy!"

Robbie wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed.

"Do you need their car seats?" I asked but she shook her head.

"Nope, I borrowed Kristy's."

I nodded remembering her neighbor Kristy had twin boys roughly Amy's age. She probably had seats they'd grown out of by now.

"Okay, thank you." I couldn't help but feel guilty when Stephanie kissed my cheek.

"Seriously, Hannah, don't worry about the kids for once. Focus on you today. I should have done this a long time ago, and I'm sorry. I know you don't like asking for help but I let that be an excuse."

"Don't get weepy on me, Steph. Time to go," I pointed to the door.

Steph let out a chuckle and lifted James towards me for a kiss.

I sat back down onto the flimsy plastic chair in the lobby and watched through the glass windows as she got the boys buckled into their seats in her car.

We waved to each other as she pulled out of her spot and drove off. The bricks on my shoulder only grew heavier. I hated not having the kids with me, even though all I wanted was to be left alone.

About two minutes after Steph left, the van was done. I hadn't expected it to be so fast. Cue the bricks once again.

I paid and waited for my van to be backed out of the garage before driving off to the grocery store. I pounded the steering wheel realizing I'd left the list on the kitchen counter. We needed everything though, so I suppose a list didn't matter anyway.

Why are grocery stores always so cold, even outside of the produce and freezer aisles? Goosebumps prickled over my arms as I tossed boxes of macaroni and cheese into the cart. The fear of running into someone I knew, especially a mutual friend of mine and Brent's, sat heavily on my chest. I looked terrible, I knew I looked terrible. And I knew they would pay me a forced compliment and that would only make it all the more awkward. 

I should have signed up for Peapod or some other delivery service.

"Where's Miss Giggles?" A voice behind me startled me as I browsed over the different characters available for fruit snacks.

I yelped and turned around, coming face to face with the man who had stopped to help me on the side of the road. It was weird to see him in such a different setting. He was more real to me now.

"Sorry," he smiled wide. He had a basket of groceries in his hand. A container of oatmeal, a few yogurts, and a roll of paper towels.

"You scared me," I said softly.

"I'm sorry," a single laugh left his lips. "I didn't mean to."

I glanced away from him, eyeing my cart, not sure where to look.

"Don't forget our deal," he teased, sensing my uneasiness.

"Hmm?" I returned my eyes to his.

"Ice cream, for the kids."

I smiled and nodded. "Yep, I haven't forgotten."

"Good. It's nice to see you again." He started to continue down the aisle, reaching for granola bars, when I remembered I needed more of those too.

"Yes, you too. And thanks again. Really."

He tossed a box into his basket and nodded. "You're welcome."

I grabbed a box as well and tossed it into the cart.

"See you around," he gave a small wave and off he went.

I waited for him to disappear before I released the breath I'd been holding.

'Jesus Christ. Get a grip.'

I was sure to avoid him the rest of the trip. I kept my eyes wide open and only went down empty aisles, avoiding any and all people.

I knew it was too soon. I grabbed a tub of ice cream and headed to check out. 

"Hannah!" A voice stopped me in my tracks. 

Another time, I would have beamed, excitedly. But now? I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

I turned and saw her. My best friend, Shelby. And she looked terrific, as she always did. Fresh manicure with matching toes. Her skin glowed from the spa treatments her ex-husband unknowingly paid for. Sometimes he paid for mine too.

Shelby pulled me into an embrace without warning. She smelled amazing, as she always did. I was sure she could smell that I hadn't showered in three days.

"I called," she said, holding me out at arms length.

"I know," I finally said. "I'm sorry, it's just been..." I struggled to find the words.

Shelby shook her head. "Babe, don't even worry about me. You take all the time you need. I'm really happy to see you out and about. How's Amy?"

I placed a hand on my cart, and forced a smile. "She's doing okay, I think."

A pang of guilt washed over me. Was Amy doing okay? I'd been so caught up in my own grief. All I knew was that she was a massive help with the boys. She was more a mother to them than I was lately. I swallowed the guilt down as best as I could.

"I'm sure she'd love to hang out with Bailey soon," I suggested.

"Of course!" Shelby grinned, pulling her purse back up to her shoulder. A new Coach bag, I noticed. Brent bought me one for my birthday two months before he died. It remains untouched in my closet.

Shelby reached out and rubbed my arm. "How about a sleepover soon? Maybe you could stay too? A girls' night? They can have the whole basement and you and I can get drunk on wine and binge something on Netflix."

"That sounds really nice, actually."

I could see Shelby wrestling with her emotions. She wore her heart on her sleeve and was a crier. I've wiped many tears after her divorce. I knew it was hard for her to see me right now after I've pushed her away for so long. Her eyes were wet but she refused to unleash the tears behind them.

"I know Amy would really love to get out of the house for a bit, so maybe, if it's okay, she can hang out with you guys for a little bit this weekend?"

"Consider it done. We'll come get her Friday after school. I'll keep her the whole weekend. But you have to promise next weekend you'll do something with me, no kids."

I chuckled. "I promise. God, yes. Please." It sounded so good. It sounded normal. It sounded like my old life. The one where I was happy and worry-free. The only thing I needed to worry about was what color polish to use for my toes or which kind of tequila I wanted in my frozen margarita.

Back home, once everything was put away, I tossed the wet clothes into the dryer and called it a day. I'd done too much. I pushed myself and now I was crashing. 

It was only 12:30 and I was ready for bed.

I hugged Brent's pillow to my face as soon as I climbed into my bed for a nap.

'I miss you so much.'


	4. Chapter 4

Stephanie dropped the kids off around dinner time and just as she promised, she brought food.

"Whoa," she said as she placed James on the floor. He immediately ran off after Robbie into the large living room Steph was currently staring at.

Embarrassed by the disaster of toys and books sprawled all over the floor, I shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Sorry about the mess," I started.

"Hann, no. I've just never seen it this bad before. You kids need to put your things away," she playfully scolded Amy, pushing a finger to her cute nose.

Amy giggled and headed into the kitchen with her backpack and lunchbox. Steph handed me the take out bag for Panera Bread and I was surprised to realize I actually felt a little hungry.

"Thanks for dinner," I gave her a quick hug. "And for everything else today."

"Anything for you, Hannah. Please, PLEASE promise you'll ask for help when you need it. You're not a burden. The kids are not a burden. You're my baby sister and I love you."

I heard the refrigerator door open and knew Amy was looking for a snack.

"Ame, we're about to eat dinner, no snacks."

The fridge door shut and then the freezer door opened.

"Amy!"

"Ice cream!" Amy exclaimed.

"Ice cream?" Robbie came running from the living room, toy dinosaur in hand and bolted past us into the kitchen, followed shortly by a wobbly James.

"Eye keem eye keem!"

I took the food into the kitchen and placed the bag on the counter, pulling everything out.

"We'll have ice cream after dinner. Amy, get some plates out please?"

Amy hopped up on the counter and opened the cabinet containing the plates, pulling them out one by one, setting them beside her. As she hopped down, she looked at me and smiled.

"You got ice cream because that man said to!"

I ignored her and picked the stack of plates off the counter, handing them to her. "Table, please."

Stephanie, who was bent down, tickling James and Robbie to distract them from the ice cream, stood up and looked at me with her browse raised.

"Oh? What man?"

With my back to her, still pulling food out of the bag, I rolled my eyes.

"Yesterday when Mommy broke the car, a man stopped and fixed it," Amy blurted out as she placed the plates on the kitchen table.

"Uh huh, I see," Steph smiled. She looked over to me. "Handled it yourself, huh? Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

I started carrying the food to the table, unwrapping the turkey sandwiches for Amy and Robbie.

"Because I knew you'd react exactly like this, that's why."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like he's a potential suitor, or --"

"Potential suitor?" Steph interrupted with a laugh.

"--or something. And he's not. It's not like that. He saw I needed help and he helped me. That's it."

"Okay."

'Time to leave now, Sis.'

"Look," I took her by the elbow gently and pulled her away from the kids. "I know you're just teasing me, but please don't. Not about this, and not in front of the kids."

Steph's eyes widened. "Hannah, it's been six months."

I widened my eyes too. "I know."

"I'm not trying to pressure you --"

"That's exactly what you're doing!"

Right then, James smacked his hand onto the table, grabbing a plate, and brought it down to the floor. Thankfully it was plastic, but the turkey sandwich fell apart and he stuffed a slice of cheese into his mouth.

Exasperated, I picked him up and stuffed him into his high chair. Tearfully, Robbie started to scream.

"My sandwich!" He sobbed, plopping himself down into his seat.

"It's fine, just pick it up," Amy told him. Instead of waiting, she did it herself and put the pieces back together, bringing the plate back to the table.

"Bye guys. Be good for your mom." Steph waved and walked out of the kitchen.

"Steph!" I finished buckling in James and ran after her, meeting her by the door. "I'm sorry."

She raised a hand, pulling her car keys out of her pocket. "It's fine. I'm sorry for whatever it is you think I'm doing. It's not what I'm trying to do, but I'm sorry."

I groaned. I hated fighting with her. I could feel tears forming and her face softened.

"God, Hannah, I'm sorry," she opened her arms and pulled me in. "I'm so sorry. Please don't cry."

"I miss him so much, Steph."

"I know, I know you do," she said softly, rubbing my back with her hand.

"Every day I think 'maybe today's the day, maybe I can finally move on and have a life' and I try and it's so hard. It's so fucking hard. I can't do it all."

"No one is asking you to, Hannah."

I pull away and brush my tears from my face. "I know no one is asking me to, but it's my job. It's what's expected of me."

"Hannah, no one is going to judge you if you don't have it all together yet. This may not be a small town, but everyone knows you. Everyone knows what happened and that you have three babies to care for. Okay? Just live and when you need help, ask for it!"

I wanted to tell her it wasn't that simple, but more than that, I wanted her to leave.

"I know," I nodded, brushing away another tear.

"When's the last time you talked to Dad? I mean, really talked to him?"

I thought about it for a second. The last heart-to-heart I had with Dad was months ago, when he told me I didn't have to worry about money at all. Thankfully Brent had an amazing life insurance policy, but Dad was a retired judge and came from good money. Our family was very well known around these parts and my father was well loved.

"It's been a while."

"Talk to him. He knows what you're going through."

I felt a pang of guilt every time someone reminded me I wasn't the only one to experience this kind of loss. Or that someone out there has it worse than I do. Like it was wrong for me to be grieving as much as I'm grieving. My therapist, Dr. Stephens, has encouraged me to grieve my way, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone.

"Mom!! I need juice!" Robbie yelled from the kitchen.

"I got it, Mom," Amy shouted.

"Jews!" James seconded.

"Bye. Call me tomorrow?" Steph asked.

Returning to the kitchen, I sat next to James and blew on his shells and cheese before feeding it to him. I took a few bites of it myself and I just wasn't feeling hungry anymore.

After James finally fell asleep, I went into Robbie's room and read him a book. His eyelids were heavy but he was fighting sleep.

"I'm sorry I was bad today." He said, his voice tired.

I hugged him tightly. "You weren't, baby. Not at all."


	5. Chapter 5

Maybe I should get a job. It would keep my mind busy. Less time to think about Brent. Dr. Stephens suggested it as a possibility and truth be told, the thought never occurred to me until then.

It was doable. I hadn't worked in roughly nine years. Once I had become pregnant with Amy, Brent begged me to quit my job, to become a stay-at-home mom for the baby. I felt that was too old-fashioned. I liked my job, even if I didn't necessarily need it. I liked keeping busy, I liked being needed.

"The baby will keep you busy... the baby will need you. I need you," Brent had assured me.

And so when it came time for maternity leave, I had said my goodbyes with the promise I would return when the baby was in school.

But it never happened. When Amy started preschool, I had grown so in love with being a mother and Brent and I tried for another baby, a sibling for Amy.

While Amy looked just like Brent, this next one was all mine. Put a long brown wig on Robbie and hold up a childhood photo of my own, you'd never know the difference. Brent was over the moon having a little boy, and two years later we tried once again for another. Along came James and our family was perfect. Three beautiful babies made out of love between Brent and I.

And we gave them everything they could have ever wanted or needed. We loved them with everything they had, even through their bratty stages, which is always inevitable, I had come to learn. It got easier to parent by the time James had joined us.

As long as I had Brent, there was nothing I couldn't handle. He always saw the silver-lining in everything.

Like right now, as Amy throws a fit in her bedroom Friday morning for no reason, he'd laugh and say at least it wasn't in public.

"Amy?" I heard Robbie say outside her door with a gentle rap of his little knuckles.

"Go. Away!" She screeched from inside her room.

Robbie pouted and sulked his way down the stairs, joining me in the kitchen. "Amy's mean."

I finished wiping James' sticky face and frowned before pulling him down off the counter. "I'm sorry baby. Sometimes we all have bad mornings."

"She has bad mornings all day! Can I have a cookie?"

"Sure. Only one."

I picked up James before he could take off and took him upstairs with me to face off with Amy.

I knocked on the door cautiously. "Amy? You're going to be late."

She didn't answer, so I tried the door knob. James yelled excitedly as I opened the door and we saw Amy sitting on her bed.

"Me-me!" James squealed out his name for her, reaching for his sister.

This caused Amy to crack a smile, though she tried her best to hold it back.

"What's the matter?" I stepped into her room and put James down. He ran straight for her stuffed animals piled in the corner.

"I don't feel good," she dropped her eyes to the ground and I knew she was lying, but why?

I sat next to her on the bed and put an arm around her. Bringing my palm to her forehead, Amy sighed. No fever.

"My stomach hurts. Can I stay home?"

I considered her request, taking pity on her. She loved school and once cried when she had the flu because she was breaking her perfect attendance record.

"Maybe it hurts because you haven't had breakfast yet. What do you think?"

Amy met my eyes and shrugged.

"Besides, you get to hang out with your best friend this weekend, starting right after school! Don't want to miss that, now do you? You haven't seen her in months."

'And it's my fault, I'm sorry.'

"I see her every day at school."

"Oh come on, that doesn't count. You told me that yourself," I chuckled and glanced at James to make sure he was still in the room. He was busy trying to take the sewed-on diaper off of a baby doll, growing frustrated.

"But you need me here with you. I don't want to leave you alone."

My heart broke as her voice cracked. She fell into my arms and buried her face into my lap.

"Sweetie, no, don't feel like that. I'll be fine. Honestly! It will be boring without you, but the boys and I will be okay. I promise you. And you know, I know where Bailey lives so I can always come get you if I need you."

Amy stayed silent for a minute before sitting back up. She brushed away a tear. "You mean it?"

"Cross my heart."

Amy chewed her lip and looked over to James before running over to him, snatching the baby doll away. "No, James! Bad!"

James immediately screamed, tears pouring down his cheeks. He pushed himself up to his feet and reached for the doll.

"Amy," I said surprised. "Just let him have it. He can't hurt it."

Amy cradled the baby, keeping it out of her brother's reach. Wondering what the commotion was, Robbie came up the stairs with a cookie crammed into his mouth. He looked into Amy's room quizzically.

I stood and took the doll from Amy. "I won't let him have it, but if you're not going to share, no one gets it."

James followed me into my room where I placed the doll onto the tall dresser. He covered his eyes and cried out, wailing.

"Robbie, how many cookies did you have?" I picked James up to console him, kissing his wet cheeks.

Still standing outside of Amy's room, Robbie shrugged.

I groaned and headed downstairs to put the package of cookies out of reach. "Breakfast, Amy," I yelled back. "Hurry, before the bus gets here."

•••

The ceiling fan lazily spun, barely causing a breeze, yet I found it soothing. No matter what time of the year it was, it was always on. The same low speed, just spinning. I first came to Dr. Stephens in February almost exactly a month after Brent passed. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we sat in silence. But she was a constant and I whole-heartily appreciated her and everything she's done for me so far.

"And the children? Last session you mentioned Robbie bringing up his father, asking when he was returning?"

"Yeah. I think they're okay." I watched as Dr. Stephen's wrote something down.

At first, anytime she wrote something down, I panicked. But now it was basically white noise. It didn't bother me anymore.

"Does Robbie have a better understanding of what's going on?" She sat the pen down on her legal pad and cocked her head.

I chewed my lip and glanced up. "No. I'm not sure. I know it's been months and he keeps asking, and maybe I should have said something, but, I just can't find it in me to sit him down and to tell him that his daddy died. Brent was his best friend, his whole world. It's awful, but I keep putting it off, hoping somehow it will just come to him and I won't have to go through this with him."

"I understand. It's not easy to explain it when you're still processing yourself."

I nodded, grateful for her understanding, but sensed the "but" coming and stayed silent.

"However," she continued, "he will eventually learn the truth and it's just a matter of time now. I think it's important he hears it from you and sooner rather than later. It's important for our children to be able to trust us. And being honest, easy or not, is the best way.

She was right. Of course she was right. I nodded in agreement and sighed.

"How about your oldest child? Amy?"

"Amy's great. Really. She's surprisingly been incredibly helpful..." I trailed off, thinking about Amy and the shitty hand she'd been dealt as the oldest of her siblings.

"Go on," Dr. Stephens encouraged with a smile.

"I don't want her to grow up too fast because of this."

Dr. Stephens tilted her head and furrowed her brow. "How do you mean?"

I picked at a thread sticking out of the throw pillow next to me on the couch.

"When I'm having my 'moments' she tries to fill my shoes and takes care of her brothers. She's eight. She should be outside running around with her friends, getting muddy, chasing ice cream trucks. Not changing diapers." I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek.

I was angry with myself now.

"I see. Has she talked to you about it?"

"No. Not really."

The therapist wrote something down.

"But she understands?"

I nodded. "Yes, she knows Brent is gone. She knows he's buried and he's not coming back."

I felt sick. I wrung my hands together, remembering the way Amy had squeezed my hand as Brent's casket was lowered into the ground.

"How is she behaving at school?"

I looked back up at Dr. Stephens. "School? Fine, I guess. She didn't want to go today. She tried playing hooky, saying she didn't feel good."

"And she wasn't ill?"

"I don't believe so. Shit. I mean I felt her forehead, she seemed fine."

"Grief is different for everyone. For some, they may continue on with their lives like nothing's changed. They say their goodbyes and that's it. Some never get over it. They can cry every day from the start, and it gets easier with each passing day. In some cases, people can bottle their grief for the benefit of another. Like a mother around her child or --"

"-- a child around their mother."

"Exactly. And it can make them feel physically ill. Just keep an eye on her. She sounds mature for her age, but if for any reason you feel like she needs to talk to a professional, I have someone I can refer you to."

It'd taken so long for me to be comfortable with Dr. Stephens that the idea of opening up to someone completely new all over ago made my heart rate climb.

"Oh, it wouldn't be with you?"

"Unfortunately no, because I am not licensed to work with children." She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "He's brilliant and wonderful with children. I think you'll love him."

I took the paper in my hands and glanced over the name and number, committing it to memory. Another stranger, another occasion to share my sob story.

"Thanks."

"How have you been doing socially?"

I tucked the paper away into my purse and cringed at the question I knew was coming. She always asked, encouraging me to step outside of my comfort zone. But what's so wrong with a comfort zone? Isn't that the whole point, the word 'comfort'?

But then I remembered Shelby. "Oh, actually, I have made plans with my best friend. I hadn't seen her for several months."

Dr. Stephens looked down at her legal pad and flipped through some of the older pages. "Ah yes, Shelby, is it? You've mentioned her before."

"Yes. I ran into her at the grocery store and we sort of made plans."

Her pen went crazy on a fresh piece of paper. "And do you intend to follow through?"

I smirked. She was good.

"At the moment, yes. I guess it all depends on how I feel when the day comes."

"Are you nervous?"

I shrugged. "I just know there will be an elephant in the room. It'd be awkward to acknowledge it but it'd be just as awkward to ignore it, you know? I guess it's inevitable. I just have to suck it up, get it over with, and then we can go from there."

"That's very good, Hannah. That's great progress. Just thinking that way is progress," she smiled, looking at me over her glasses resting on the tip of her nose.

She removed them and rested them on the small table next to her chair. "I'm afraid that's our time for today. I'm very happy about today's session Hannah. How about you?"

"Yeah, I feel pretty good about it."

"Good. Next time I hope to hear more about Shelby and how your plans went."

I groaned silently.

"Hannah, you'll know when you're ready. But I can't think of any place better to start than with your best friend."

I licked my lips, reluctant to agree with her. Shelby was too familiar. Socializing with Shelby would be like doing a cannon ball off the high dive when you didn't know how to swim. Dr. Stephens had to know that. Whatever happened to dipping your toes in first? Checking the temperature? Dog paddling?

"I don't know. I feel like I need something different."

Dr. Stephens placed her palms on her knees, listening. "Such as?"

"Like small talk with strangers. Conversations with people who have no idea what's happened to me. Does that make sense?"

She smiled and nodded. "It does. But think of it this way; you returning into socializing is like ripping a bandaid off. You know it's going to hurt. You want to pull it off slowly, which will take longer when it's probably better to just yank it off and get it over with. That being said, there's no wrong way, honestly. I won't pressure you. If it gets you out there again, by all means, pull it off bit by bit."

I sighed. But where to start.


	6. Chapter 6

I wracked my brain for ideas as I drove to pick up James from Steph's house. I thought about the library, maybe there was a book club to join. But that required a commitment and effort I couldn't afford. At least not yet. I wanted something short and sweet.

James and I had headed to pick Robbie up from pre-school and then Amy from Pleasant Valley Elementary. I don't know how I would have handled three solid months of no school during the summer. Brent knew what he was doing when he suggested we enroll them into year-round schools and I silently thanked him for it.

Sitting in the pick-up line for Amy, I watched people pass by getting their kids. In the door they went. They'd chat a bit with the aide in charge of releasing the kids, then off they went. That's what I needed. Just an evening of small talk with strangers.

Amy ran out, a massive smile across her face. She climbed into the back of the van and buckled up.

"Good day?" I asked her, looking at her through the rear view mirror in the car.

She blushed and nodded as she buckled up.

I put the van in drive and headed home. "Anything special happen?"

"No, not really." Her eyes had a twinkle in them and I playfully glared at her through the mirror.

"Alright. Let's go pack for your weekend with Bailey."

•••

About an hour later, the doorbell rang as I was pulling James down off the sofa table by the bay window in the living room. He somehow had stacked up some of his bigger toys and used them to climb his way up. I groaned at the sound of the doorbell. I'd come to hate the noise it made. Like Pavlov's dogs, I'd been conditioned by it.

"Mom," Amy shouted from the top of the stairs, her overnight bag overstuffed, hanging behind her. "They're here!"

I swung James onto my hip and nearly tripped over Robbie as he ran in front of me in a mad dash to get to the door first.

"Hi Robbie, oh my goodness! You're so tall!" Shelby gasped, rubbing his head after he'd opened the door for her. Bailey followed closely behind.

"Hi Bailey!" Robbie exclaimed, hugging her. Bailey giggled and hugged him back.

Amy's bag thumped its way behind her down the stairs. She groaned as she tugged it towards the door.

"Sure you got everything?" I teased her.

"Everything but the kitchen sink," she teased back. Her wit took me by surprise and I laughed. She reminded me so much of Brent.

I kissed the top of her head and she gave James a kiss on the cheek before turning to Robbie. She placed a kiss on his forehead which Robbie immediately brushed away in disgust.

"You girls go ahead and get in the car. We're going to get pizza and rent some movies for tonight." Shelby told our girls.

Bailey helped Amy lift her bag and they took off out the door, the bag dragging down the walk way. Shelby chuckled, watching them go.

"What are you guys up to tonight?" She turned back to me and the boys.

"Batman!" James cheered.

"Batman?!" Shelby mirrored his excitement. "You're going to watch Batman?"

"Actually, Spider-Man, but every super hero is Batman to James," I snickered.

"Even Supergirl is Batman," Robbie explained, rolling his eyes before running off to play.

Shelby laughed, delighted. She'd always loved the boys.

"So how are things? I feel like we have so much catching up to do." She took James from me for a minute, simply to cuddle him.

I felt naked without him in my arms; without something between us. I was bare; exposed.

"Things are," I struggled to find the words. "Things are okay. I guess. Nothing new to report really. How about you?"

James tangled his fingers into Shelby's long blonde hair and smiled. Shelby smiled back and kissed his chubby cheek. "Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. I tried something new a few weeks ago and kind of have been seeing someone." She looked up at me and rolled her eyes with a shy smile. "Kind of."

"Oh? Do tell," I prodded her, happy for her.

"His name is Paul and he's a gynecologist."

My mouth parted and I cocked my head to the side. "Wow," I gave a short laugh. "He's not... yours is he?"

Shelby giggled and bounced James on her hip. "No, he's not. Don't tell a soul, but I went to one of those speed dating things and we ended up matching with each other. He's hilarious, you'd love him."

"Wow, I mean, that's really great. A gynecologist. Interesting." I had a hard time keeping my face straight.

"It's okay, you can laugh. Get it all out," Shelby giggled. "It was awkward at first, but I really like him."

My cheeks were beginning to hurt. I hadn't smiled this much in a long while. "I can't believe you went speed dating." As soon as I said the words, it clicked.

That's what I should do.

•••

I pulled into the driveway of my Dad's house and sat looking at the front porch. The door was bright blue and friendly. The boys in the back sat silently, waiting for me to get them out.

Dad and Georgia must have been watching from the windows because then the front door opened and they came out to greet us, smiling happily.

"Grandpa!" Robbie kicked excitedly in his seat. James copied his big brother, yelling nonsense.

I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the van. "Hey Dad," I said as he held out his arms. I gave him a hug and felt him kiss the top of my head. "Hi Georgia," I smiled as his wife as she went to the other side of the van to let Robbie out.

"Hey there, Sunshine! I've been waiting all day to get my hands on these babies!" She unbuckled Robbie and he hopped down, running over to his grandpa.

Dad bent down and picked him up, hugging him tightly. "Robert! My big man!"

I smiled as I watched the exchange. Dad was close to Robbie, and I thanked my lucky stars for that. The kids still had a terrific father figure in their lives.

Georgia had come to our side of the van and unbuckled James. With James on her hip, she gave me a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"No Amy?" She asked.

"She's staying with a friend this weekend."

"Oh, how lovely," Georgia beamed. "That'll be fun for her."

I grabbed the diaper bag out of the van before sliding the door closed.

"Are you sure this is okay?" I asked as I handed it over to Dad.

He had put Robbie down who'd already run into the house to play with Cooper, their loyal old fart of a beagle.

"Of course it is!" Georgia insisted, elbowing Dad in the arm until he nodded in agreement.

"Of course, Bug," he chimed in.

"It's just so last minute, I feel bad."

Georgia frowned and rubbed my arm. "It's fine, sweetheart. Really. I'm going to take this big guy inside. Say good night to Mommy, Jamesy," she cooed, kissing his cheek.

James giggled and puckered his lips out to me. I smiled and kissed them.

"I love you," I told him, tucking his sweet curls behind his ears.

"Have fun, Sunshine," Georgia winked as she took the diaper bag from Dad and headed inside with the baby.

Dad and I watched as Georgia went in and laughed loudly, probably at something Robbie was doing with the poor dog, closing the door.

I knew Dad didn't know quite what to say. He wasn't a man of many words as it was, but tragedy made it even harder for him.

"You look beautiful, Bug," he smiled at me.

I gave him a half smile and looked down at my feet. I was wearing heels for the first time since the funeral. It felt weird.

"Thanks. I'm still not entirely sure I want to do this tonight."

"I think it's a good idea," Dad shrugged. "You never know."

"But it looks bad, don't you think?"

He thought for a minute, and scratched his chin, peppered with silver stubble. "Nah. And anyone who judges you, fuck 'em."

My mouth parted in surprise. Dad hated to curse. "Wow. Where'd that come from?"

Dad laughed lightly. "Well, when you get to be my age, you learn life is far too short to waste time worrying about what others think of you. You're not doing a single thing wrong. Not one bit."

I leaned against the van, and chewed on my lower lip, worried. He was right, but it didn't stop me from feeling anxious.

"Bug, I wasted so much time after your momma passed on, God bless her, may she rest in peace. And you remember how miserable I was until I found Georgia, right?"

This was a conversation for another day, yet here we were.

"Yes, I remember. But years had passed. It was more acceptable based on that fact alone."

"Do you think that really matters? Do you really think I didn't still feel tremendously guilty? Like I was doing something wrong?" He softened his voice for me. "I still felt like I was being judged. My point is, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. The guilt will be there. But the sooner you get out there, the quicker it will pass."

Why did everyone have to be right and encouraging? For once I wanted someone to disagree with me, to justify the guilt I constantly felt.

'Yes, Hannah, you're a terrible mother and how could you, your husband JUST died six months ago. You should be in bed bawling your eyes out for at least ten more years, not dipping your toes back into the dating scene so soon!'

"So, speed dating, eh?" Dad teased. "That's one way to do it."

I rolled my eyes. "You know very well I'm not looking for anything. It just seems, I don't know, like less pressure."

"And you never know, maybe you will meet someone."

"No," I laughed, cutting him off quickly. "Not the goal. I just want to chat with strangers who know nothing about me. That's all."

Dad raised his brows at me and chuckled. "You just never know."


	7. Chapter 7

I stirred my gin and tonic to keep my hands busy, otherwise they'd be seen shaking.

I shouldn't be here. Why'd I ever think this was a good idea. Every single man so far had obviously been looking for sex. It was basically Tinder in the flesh. I've been swiping left all damn night and I was exhausted even if we've only been here for half an hour.

The event was held at an Italian bistro, trying to generate more business since an Olive Garden had just opened up in town a month ago. There were twenty of us, not including the servers and other staff or the couple running the event. The tables were spread out with a small candle lit in red glass candle holders in the center of each. The women stayed seated and every time Caroline, the woman running the show, banged the small gong at her table, the men would up and rotate, changing tables, getting to know a different woman.

Caroline sat at a table with a book and sipped her cocktail. Her husband Gianni, a friend of the restaurant owner, sat across from her, sampling the appetizers the restaurant provided. They both looked like they'd rather be anywhere but here.

A dark haired gentleman with a receding hairline sat himself in front of me. The name tag on his purple dress shirt read "Derek" with a number 17 and he extended his hand out. I took it and we greeted each other.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hannah," he grinned and took a sip of his beer. "So," he glanced over the sheet in front of him. "Let's see. How old are you?"

I internally groaned. Would it be rude to just get up and leave?

"I'm thirty-three. How about you?"

"Ah. Fifty-two."

I watched him take his pen and mark the 'no' next to my assigned number. He glanced back up at me and grinned before sipping his beer, as if I didn't just see him blatantly reject me.

Not that I wanted him. Not one bit. But dammit, I'll do the rejecting around here!

I took my pen and put a big fat check mark next to number 17 on my sheet.

We sat in silence, nursing our drinks, waiting for the gong to sound, signaling the rotation of dates. Derek and I didn't even say our goodbyes. Our relationship was doomed from the start.

A thinner man with a head full of bright red hair seated himself in front of me. "Oh wow, hi," he beamed. "I'm Todd."

"I'm Hannah," I smiled back. He was totally different from everyone else. He was pleasant.

"And what do you do Hannah?"

I kept with the story I'd told everyone else.

"I'm a zoologist, Todd."

Todd, blinked and sat up straight. "Wow, that's incredible! I love animals!"

"They're okay."

Todd furrowed his brow and chuckled, nervously. "Where do you work?"

"The zoo." I took a drink.

Todd smiled, looking more uncomfortable. "I mean, which zoo. The closest one is... Milwaukee?"

"You're correct! And how about you, Todd? What sort of bacon are you bringing home?"

"I'm an IT guy. Nothing nearly as exciting as being a zoologist, that's for sure. What's your favorite animal?"

"Sea otters. Definitely. So cute."

"They are! I like giraffes. I've always wondered, why are their tongues blue?"

'Oh shit.'

I took a long swig of my drink, emptying the glass.

"Good question, Todd. Very good question. They eat a lot of berries."

Todd scratched his chin, listening, waiting for me to expand my answer.

"It's the berries," I continued. "And, well, they're just so damn tall and we can't exactly afford all the man power it'd take to get their teeth brushed every day. So, yeah, the berries."

Todd leaned forward onto his elbows. He was soaking up the lies, loving it. I felt terrible.

Changing the subject, I asked him about his hobbies.

"I'm really into music. So our first date, I'd probably take you to a concert."

"Oh, no, thank you." Now I felt really bad. Todd seemed genuine and in search for that someone special. I was completely wasting his time.

I felt tingly. I knew I shouldn't have another drink, but I got one anyway.

This wasn't completely a bust, however. There were a few times when conversation came naturally. I didn't have to talk about my kids, my family, my husband, or his death. If I was asked about previous marriages, I lied. I'd never see these guys again, so what did it matter? I actually spoke to other human beings about something else for once. And it was so freeing, so rehabilitating, and I felt drunk on the adrenaline. Or perhaps the alcohol.

I handed in my sheet of paper, all marked up with 'no's and stepped out into the Saturday night air. It was nearly 9pm and the summer sun had finally dropped into the horizon.

I felt proud of myself for going through with the speed dating. I had made my Dad and Georgia promise to never tell a soul about it, and I'd never bring it up or do it again, but for some reason, it felt like I had made a huge step towards, I don't know, normalcy.

It was a busy night. Downtown generally was, especially on Saturday's. Couples passed by, hand-in-hand, out on dates. A line formed across the street at the small five screen movie theater and I looked at the marquee to see what was showing. I was so out of the loop. I loved movies but had zero idea about any that were currently playing. I didn't quite want to go home just yet, but seeing a movie by myself didn't seem appealing.

Starting to walk, with no place in mind, I hugged myself. It was unusually breezy with a slight chill for July. My bare shoulders could benefit from a thin cardigan or wrap, but I hadn't thought I'd need one. Going into Marzano's Italian Eatery for their speed dating event, I had planned on heading straight home afterwards. But I felt a buzz and I wanted to take advantage of the child-free evening.

Is it sad to get dinner alone? I'd been too nervous to try the bruschetta. My stomach growled. Maybe it wasn't best I drank on an empty stomach, but it was what it was. I walked about a block until I decided on going into the Courthouse Pub. They had amazing bacon cheeseburgers and I salivated just thinking about one. I couldn't even remember the last time I had one.

I walked into the pub and was promptly seated at a booth. The lights were low and I felt more comfortable, even with the pity glances passed my way once everyone realized I was dining alone. I really enjoyed the solitude. I ordered a locally brewed beer, one of Brent's favorites, even though I have never been one to appreciate beer.

The waiter brought me a pint and I gingerly took my first sip and fought back the gag reflex. The next time he came my way, I asked for water.

My phone took most of my attention. I scrolled through Facebook and Instagram, catching up on the lives of friends I hadn't spoken to in a while. It still stung to see photos of friends with their spouses, but I did notice it stung a little less. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the healing process. Either way, it was a victory to me.

Shelby had posted photos of Bailey and Amy this morning. They had made pancakes for breakfast and Amy's was piled high with chocolate chips and raspberries. I smiled at her cute little face on the screen of my phone.

My bacon cheeseburger arrived and the first bite was heavenly. The second bite, not as nice. The bacon pulled out and fell onto my chin. When you're alone in a crowded place, you can just feel all eyes on you. I glanced up as I stuffed the rogue bacon into my mouth and my eyes came into contact with someone I most definitely did not want to see right at this moment; the handsome stranger who'd saved me on the side of the road.

I shrank down into my seat and picked at my french fries. He hadn't seen me yet, thank god. He was sitting at the bar, with half his beer gone already, wearing a suit with his tie undone, just hanging around his neck.

He cleaned up nice. Really nice.

And he was alone. Once again. I kept my eyes on him. He was seated at the side of the bar, so I got a lovely view of his profile. He nursed his beer and kept his head down.

I returned to my meal but kept stealing glances. How is it I've seen him three times in a week now? I popped a fry into my mouth and chewed. Then I took a fairly large drink of the beer and swallowed hard before rising out of the booth.

I felt brave, thanks to all the alcohol I had consumed this evening. A little voice in my head told me to sit back down, eat, then leave. But I had to know why he was here. I'd never seen him before, and then suddenly, it felt like I saw him every day.

I straddled the stool next to him, my summer dress straining against my thighs, and tapped his shoulder. "Why are you following me?"

He was in the middle of a drink and beer dribbled down his chin when I startled him. Using the back of his hand he wiped it away, his eyes wide, staring at me.

"Excuse me?" Then his eyes softened and there was recognition in them. "Oh, you," a hint of a smile crossing his lips.

"Oh me. Why are you following me?"

He scrunched his nose and sat up straight. "I'm... I'm not?"

I quickly glanced back at my booth to make sure no one touched my food. I wasn't finished but had business here to tend to first.

"You came out of nowhere and now everywhere I go, there you are."

He pursed his lips and playfully glared at me. "Are you sure you're not the one following me?"

My jaw dropped. How dare he?

"Of course I'm not. I was here first. And you popped up behind me at the grocery store."

"How do you know you were here first?" He took a drink of his beer, keeping his eyes on me. He lowered them, taking in the way I was seated before him.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and brought my ankles together and crossed my arms over my chest. He noticed and smirked.

"You're right, I don't," I admitted, lifting my chin. I wouldn't be defeated.

"But since you're here," he turned on his stool and leaned against the bar on his elbow, opening himself up as opposed to the little ball of a man I first saw when I realized he was here. "Where'd you come from?"

I gestured behind me. "I'm eating dinner."

He peered over my shoulder at the empty booth I'd come from. My lonely burger waiting.

"Where's your family?" He furrowed his brow but his eyes were kind, matching his sly smile.

"I'm a lone wolf tonight, I'm afraid." My arms came uncrossed and held onto the bar in front of me.

"Well in that case, may I get you a drink? Or would your husband object?"

My husband.

I had forgotten that I had lied to him the first time we met.

"I don't think he'd mind. But no thanks, I just want to finish my dinner, if you don't mind."

He shrugged, unbothered. "You're the one who came to me."

"Right. Then I bid thee good evening."

I laughed in spite of myself. It felt good to feel so carefree. I stood and wobbled in my heels. My hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm to steady myself.

He laughed and stood, holding onto me. "Alright there?"

"I'm fine. Wow," I snickered, feeling dazzled by the muscle beneath his jacket. "You're pretty strong."

He stared back at me, amused. "You're sure I can't get you a drink?"

"You're pushy."

"I'm not."

"Sit with me?"

"Sure thing," he grabbed his beer and followed me to my booth, sliding in across from me.

I didn't mind that he watched as I took another bite of my burger. I didn't mind his presence at all. Even if he was large. Rather large. My eyes fell to his hands cupping his glass. He had nice hands. I chewed and looked back up at his face. His eyes were narrowed, looking at me. Probably trying to make sense of the hot mess in front of him.

"Why are you here alone?" He finally asked.

I swallowed my bite and held up a finger as I took a drink of my beer.

"Why are you?"

He shook his head with annoyance. "Okay, it's going to be like that? Well, as you can see, I'm not exactly dressed appropriately for a night at the pub." He yanked on his loose tie and pulled it off completely, placing it on the table.

"I noticed. You look good," I told him.

He sat back against the booth seat and grinned. "Thank you. You look beautiful."

My heart lurched and I felt my cheeks turning red.

"Anyway," he continued. "I've been at a wedding today."

"Oh, weddings! I love weddings. Who got married?"

He groaned and looked down into his beer before taking the last swig of it. He raised a hand, attracting the attention of a female server.

"Hey," she said as she quickly came to his side, completely ignoring me. "What can I get for you?"

He ordered another beer and sent her on her way. I noticed she had a bouncy walk but his eyes stayed on me as she bounced off to get his drink.

"Well?" I waited.

"Her name is Amanda and she's my ex-girlfriend." His lips thinned as he lowered his eyes to his empty glass.

I bit in my lower lip. "Yikes. I'm sorry. Why'd you go?"

He scoffed, like the answer was obvious. "Because I'm a nice guy."

"Well, she's a terrible person. Why would she subject you to that? How awful. No wonder you look like a kicked puppy."

"Hey, I resent that," he said in a low voice, but with an amused smirk.

"I'm sorry," I laughed, "but it's true! I took pity on you and rescued you. So now you're here and you're not alone anymore. Screw your ex. That was extremely rude and selfish of her to rub her marriage in your face like that."

"It would have been better if you were my date," he joked.

I slammed my hand on the table, taking him by surprise. "Dammit, you're right. Shit, that would have been awesome."

The waitress returned with his beer and he thanked her. He held onto it, not taking a drink just yet.

"Perhaps next time," he teased.

"How many exes do you have?" I leaned forward on my elbows, pushing my plate away.

"I've lost count," he dead-panned.

I smiled, enjoying his company. "You're a bit cocky, aren't you," I teased him.

"So they say. Now it's your turn."

"I've just finished speed dating," I spit out. I regretted it immediately.

"What?" He laughed. "You don't seem the type."

"I'm really not. But then I was hungry and well, here I am." I brought my plate back in front of me and stuffed another fry into my mouth.

"Thank goodness. So, you lied to me then."

Cat's out of the bag.

"You noticed?" I gave him an uneasy smile. "But in my defense, can you blame me? Stuck on the side of the road and a strange male stops to help?"

"Hmm. Well I feel less like a douche for hitting on you, so there's that."

I swallowed hard, raising my brows. "You're hitting on me? Are you sure?" I laughed. It was a lot of fun to tease him.

"Way to kick me when I'm down," he jested.

"I'm sorry. You're doing a great job. I'm all flustered. You'll be back in the saddle in no time."

He placed a hand over his heart. "Whew. You had me going there. Wasn't sure if I'd be able to take you back home or not."

"What?" My smile dropped. Was he serious?

"What?" He grinned.

"You want to get out of here?"

He leaned forward, pushing my plate aside again. "Are you asking me?"

I sat there, my eyes on his. Was he serious? Really serious? He was no longer smiling, but waiting for a reply.

My heart was beating dangerously fast. My mind was all over the place. Was there a time limit to answer before he moved on to the lovely waitress who'd obviously bark immediately if he told her to?

I started to panic. But he was gorgeous. And he was right, he was a nice guy. And it's been so long...

"Yes," I answered.


	8. Chapter 8

How we managed to get to his place in one piece, I'll never know. I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest the way it was frantically pounding. He held my hand in the car, probably to calm my fears, I'm not exactly sure, but I did find it soothing. Especially the way his thumb ran over my knuckles.

I was afraid to speak. If I opened my mouth, I'd wake up from this dream. And if it wasn't a dream, I'd say something completely wrong and turn him off and be sent home with my tail between my legs. I wasn't even sure what to say anyway.

His apartment was a nice size, but humble. Boxes were stacked on top of one another, some open, contents spilling out like he'd been searching for something specific. Art work and plaques were on the floor, leaning against the walls where they were waiting to be hung.

Finally, I spoke up, clearing my throat. "Did you just move in?"

He locked the door behind us and removed his jacket. "Three weeks ago. I've been busy, hence the mess. Ignore it," he smiled.

"Ah." I wanted to go through his things. The large book cases behind the couch begged to be filled with the books he had boxed up next to them. A few boxes he had joined together as a makeshift table, a lamp sitting on top.

My head was clearing up a bit. My conscience, who'd been silenced hours ago after my first gin and tonic, was struggling to break through. I needed to muffle her some more.

"Do you have anything to drink?" I asked him as I sat down on the couch. I could tell it was new. Or at least three little kids haven't been jumping on it for years.

He'd been watching me since I first stepped into his home, keeping an eye on me. I could see the concern. I could see him wrestling with his own conscience. Or maybe he was just nervous I'd change my mind and book it. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't considering it. I needed that drink.

"I might have a beer," he said as he crossed over towards the kitchen.

I watched as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up past his elbows. He hunkered down in front of the open fridge and grabbed a beer from the crisper. I tried to ignore that fact. Brent kept his beers in the same spot of our fridge.

He stood and turned, facing me, holding the beer out. "Only the one. All yours," he grinned, heading back my way, popping the top off the edge of the counter first.

My body was reacting before my brain could catch up. I licked my lips and thanked him for the beer as he handed it to me and I caught his mouth twitch as I took him from him. I took a small sip and placed it on a taped up moving box next to the couch, never taking my eyes off of him.

"Are you just gonna stare at me all night or are you going to make your move?" The words left my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.

His eyes changed. Where he had just been watching me, proceeding with caution, almost afraid to make any sudden movements, he was now a predator ready to attack. He came toward me and I fell back onto the couch, feeling insanely sexy and like a goddess.

There was no room for second thoughts. His lips were on me before my head even hit the couch cushion. He straddled me, pinning me down to the couch, and with his hands, he cupped my jaw, keeping me still so he could have his way. I relished it. My nerves were firing like crazy, my mind spinning, my stomach doing somersaults. It was like I'd never been kissed before.

I had to remember to breathe.

I ran my hands up his back, tugging his dress shirt up out of his slacks. I fanned my hands over his back, pressing him towards me more. He was so heavy on me yet I loved it. He held most of his weight up with his knees, and his chest was so broad and powerful. I wanted to see more of him.

He brushed his lips over my jaw and kissed below my ear. I shivered with chills, goosebumps prickling my skin while I brought my hands to the front of his shirt, working on the tiny buttons. He lowered a hand to my thigh, my dress riding up more and more as he applied more pressure on top of me.

"Please," I managed to whisper between breaths.

I hadn't told him what I wanted, but somehow he just knew. He sat up, not removing himself from me, and finished unbuttoning his shirt with my help. I pushed it off of his shoulders and he pulled his arms out, balling the shirt up before tossing it across the room.

'Jesus, have mercy...'

He was stunning. I couldn't help but gawp at his naked chest, eyeing his gorgeous and strong shoulders. My legs would look good hooked up there. I fought back a yawn, not wanting him to think I found him boring. Nothing could be further from the truth. He joined his lips back to mine and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I welcomed it, caressing it with my own, ignoring the rational part of my brain trying to rudely interrupt this little moment of temporary happiness.

•••

There are many things in life that I've come to regret. No, strike that. Everything I've experienced in my lifetime has made me who I am today. But there have been mistakes made, the kind where I wish I would have taken a few extra minutes to think things through before acting. This was one of those moments. Only this time, the regret was real and unforgiving.

And it hit me like a bowling ball to the stomach the second I woke up.

Before my eyes even opened, I could feel the guilt creeping it's way into my heart. For a second, I thought the man on the bed behind me, the body I felt pressed against mine, was my husband. It must have been a dream, the kind reality likes to shatter by jolting you awake.

I stayed there, unmoving, my eyes darting around his room, trying to recall the evening before. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the dim light behind the curtains teased its arrival.

I was too scared to move. How did I get here? I remember being in a car with him, I remembered him on top of me. Oh god.

Then he shifted, rolling from his side to the other, tugging the blanket along with him. It fell down my length, and I was relieved to find I hadn't slept next to him naked. My hands snaked down my body, feeling for my panties. They were on. All I needed to do was oh so carefully get out of bed, find my shoes, and get the hell out. The last thing I needed right now was some awful awkward exchange.

I lifted my head and a hammer came down onto it, or at least that's what it felt like. It's been a while since I've had a hangover. I couldn't think about how awful I felt right now. My priority was slipping out, unnoticed.

Taking a slow but deep breath, I lifted my head again, moving my legs towards the edge of the mattress. I stalled when it squeaked, gritting my teeth together.

He hadn't moved. I bit the bullet and hopped out as quickly as I could. Turning around to face him in the darkness, I could see he was shirtless but had on athletic shorts. The blanket had been pulled to his chest and he snuggled it close to his face. His back was exposed to the chill of the room and even though I so badly wanted to escape and forget this ever happened, he'd been so kind to me. So sweet and caring. I could at least make him more comfortable.

I went around the bed and lifted the blanket, covering him as best as I could. Through my hazy still-half-drunk eyes, I glanced over his sleeping face. He was gorgeous, that was for sure.

I backed away, making my way to the bedroom door which was open wide. As I stepped out into the hallway, I closed it as quietly as I could. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sprinted down the hall and into the living room. My bladder was screaming at me, begging me to relieve it but I needed to find my shoes.

Or not. I groaned and turned around, back down the hall to the bathroom. I closed the door and peed, wishing my stream wasn't so freaking loud at five in the morning.

Back in the living room, I stepped into my heels and then quickly stepped out once I was awake enough to realize walking in heels right now probably wasn't the best idea. I found my purse, snatched it up, and hooked my heels onto my finger before walking out of his apartment.

The door latched behind me and I felt free. I dug my phone out of my purse and ordered a Lyft. I was terrified of -well shit, what's his name even?- waking up and looking for me.

'Oh my god, Hannah.'

A one night stand with a man whose name I didn't even know? Bravo. A new low.

I sat outside on a bench, my purse and heels next to me and groaned.

I felt like I had cheated. Combined with the hammering in my brain, I felt absolutely sick. I was the lowest of the low. Had grass even begun to grow over Brent's grave? The sting of tears threatened to spill over but I held back, biting my cheek. The walk of shame was bad enough already, I didn't need to add to it and scare my Lyft driver.

But the second I stepped into my home, they fell. What the hell had come over me? Lonely or not, I was still a married woman. I still loved Brent! We have a family! I'm a mother, yet I acted so carelessly, like I had zero responsibilities in my life.

I stormed my way upstairs and took off my dress. I nearly hung it up until I remembered it probably needed to be cleaned.

This was so unlike me. I couldn't stop replaying the night before. It'd gone so well.

Until him. The man with no name. Me and my bacon cheeseburger were just fine without him. Never mind the fact that I went up to him.

I jumped into the shower and scrubbed myself clean, wanting to wash away every moment of last night. What a stupid idea it was. I should have rented a movie and eaten a pint of ice cream instead, feeling sorry for myself like usual. The stream felt great on my head, even with the steady pounding of blood I could feel rushing through it with every heart beat.

Now, on top of all the anger, sadness, frustration, the hangover, and mom guilt, was this feeling of betrayal, only I'd been the one doing the betraying.

I could hear my phone ringing from inside my purse which I'd tossed onto the bed. My heart pounded thinking it was him. But there was no way he even had my number. Then I quickly turned the shower off and dried as fast as I could, wrapping my towel around me. I ran to the bed and pulled my phone out, worried something had happened to one of the kids.

"Hello?" I answered before the last ring.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm sorry I'm calling so early." It was Shelby.

I sighed, relieved, and sat on the bed. "Oh hey! It's fine," I said, realizing it was almost six. "What's up? Is Amy okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine. God, did I wake you? I'm sorry, I should have just waited. I was going to call you last night but I figured I could handle it."

"Shelby, what's wrong?"

Shelby cleared her throat before speaking. "I know it's been a while since the girls have been together, and I don't know, maybe it's a phase, but Amy hasn't been herself."

I closed my eyes and listened.

"The girls were snuggled on the couch last night when I went to sleep and then I woke up to pee, I checked on them and found a pair of scissors on the coffee table, a pile of hair next to them. I woke up Bailey and her hair had been all cut off! It barely covers her ears now! Bailey said it was Amy so I woke Amy up trying to make sense of this, and Amy had given herself bangs and nicked her forehead with the scissors. I'm so sorry. It was so late, I didn't know what to do. It ate at me all night. I feel terrible, and I don't know what to do about Bailey's hair," she started to laugh.

I covered my mouth in surprise and stared at the ceiling. "Wow, Shelby, I'm so sorry... wow, um..." I was at a loss for words.

Shelby sniffled on the phone once her laughter subsided. "Amy's never done anything like this before, right?"

"Not at all," I laughed once. "Are they sleeping now?"

"No, they're up already. It's so early, I'm sorry. I really could have waited."

"It's fine, really," I groaned, feeling my head. My fingers raked against my skull, wanting to release the pressure I felt.

"You okay?"

I chuckled. "I had a bit to drink last night."

Shelby laughed, "Oh Hannah! Do you feel like shit right now?"

"You have no idea."


	9. Chapter 9

I avoided socializing like the plague. Again. I just couldn't. I canceled on Shelby and made a half-ass promise to try again some other time. She said she understood but I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

The only people I saw were my children, and Stephanie. And every once in a while, Dr. Stephens. Her pen went crazy the last time we spoke. I told her about the speed dating and she filled up an entire page of her legal pad as I spoke. I neglected to tell her about the rest of the evening because I had decided that it didn't happen. So really, it was pointless to share.

The less people who knew, the better. And as far as I knew, it was just me and him. And perhaps the Lyft driver.

I had finished scrubbing down the baseboard James had marked up with a crayon he found buried in the bottom of the toy box when Amy stormed in from outside, slamming the door, startling both James and I. 

Robbie stuck his head out his bedroom door and yelled, "No slamming doors!"

I stood up from my work and glared at her. "Excuse me? That was extremely rude. We don't do that, Amy."

"Whatever," she snarled and ran up the stairs. I heard her stubborn footfalls all the way to her room where she, once again, slammed the door after entering.

Nostrils flared, I sighed heavily and pulled James off the end table before he could touch the lit lightbulb and burn himself. "No, James. No, no, no!"

His eyes teared up and he whimpered, burying his face into my neck as we made our way upstairs. I placed him into his crib where I knew he'd stay safe and out of trouble, since, praise the powers that be, he still hadn't figured out how to climb out.

"Be right back," I told him before heading to Amy's room.

I knocked on her door before turning the doorknob, which was locked. I only grew more annoyed and knocked harder. 

"Amy! Unlock this door now!"

I heard her grumbling on the other side before the doorknob jiggled, unlocking from the inside. I opened the door and stared at her with my arms crossed. 

"What's up with you?"

"What's up with you?" Robbie came behind me, copying me, stance and all. He'd been going through the copycat phase for a few days and while at first it was cute, I was in no mood.

I snapped at him. "Knock it off already!"

Robbie stilled, stunned by my reaction, before running off to his room. He quietly closed his door and I could hear him crying. I was too angry with Amy to care at the moment.

"This whole attitude thing you've got going on lately? It needs to stop. I've had enough!" I took a step into her room when she looked away.

Her eyes shot back to me, knowing I hated when she looked away during a scolding. She sat on the edge of her bed, a tiny cut above her right eyebrow from cutting her own hair. She was so out of place, surrounded by Hello Kitty and Disney Princesses with the angry pout on her face.

"Well?" I asked, waiting for an answer.

"Go away," she growled, roughly grabbing a poop emoji pillow off of her bed and hugging it.

"Wrong answer. Do you want to be grounded this weekend?"

"I don't care."

"Okay, fine. Consider yourself grounded. Enjoy." I walked over to her desk and unhooked her iPad from its charger and grabbed the remote control for her television.

Amy gasped and stood, the stuffed poop falling to the floor. "You can't do this!"

"Sweetie, I'm your mother and I can do whatever the hell I want."

Defiantly, she walked towards me, reaching for her things. I held them up out of reach.

"Amy, stop! You're making it worse! What is wrong with you?!"

"Give it back!" She jumped, grabbing onto my sleeve. I dropped the remote and she picked it up. I kept the iPad out of her reach.

I stared at her in disbelief. "Amy, give me the remote. Now. You're digging yourself into a hole and it's going to be a lot harder to climb out of if you keep it up."

Her face was red with anger. I knew she would erupt any minute. I remained calm and tried to be patient, but she was severely pressing my buttons.

"Now!" I held out my hand.

Amy tossed the remote onto the floor. "There!" She sat back on her bed and crossed her arms in defeat.

Picking up the remote, I kept my eyes on her. "I don't want to see you again until I call you down for dinner. Do you understand?"

"Whatever," she grumbled, looking away from me. I could see her eyes welling and I wanted to hug her and sort this out, but more than that, I needed to step away and breathe.

I closed her door behind me and heard a thump against it as Amy threw something towards it.

I hid her iPad in my room, along with the remote control, and silently counted to ten before going into Robbie's room.

Robbie was face down on his bed, his favorite stuffed puppy trapped under his arm. He heard me come in and looked my way before burying his face back into his pillow, muffling his sobs.

I sat at the foot of his bed and rubbed his back. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, baby."

"You're so mean! You're a mean mom!" He cried into the pillow.

"I'm not mean, but what I did wasn't nice, you're right, and I'm sorry. Please look at me?" I pulled my hand away as he slowly sat himself up next to me, keeping his head down.

He brushed away his tears with his little hands and sniffled. I waited for his dark brown eyes to look back at me.

He sighed heavily and looked up.

"I should have asked you nicely to stop and to return to your room. If I had, would you have listened?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

I pursed my lips together. "I don't know about that," I chuckled. "Do you forgive me?"

"I still hurt," he pouted.

I placed an arm around him and hugged him to me. "Oh baby, I'm sorry. I love you so much, you know that?"

He shrugged again, hugging me back.

"No matter how mad you make me, I'll never stop loving you." I kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."

"It's 'kay." He brushed his wet nose against my shirt and I grimaced but didn't say anything.

"I better get started on dinner."

I left Robbie playing with his Hot Wheels and went to get James, taking him back downstairs with me. 

My phone rang the second my foot hit the bottom step. I rushed into the kitchen where it sat on the counter.

"Hello?" I quickly answered before my voicemail could pick up.

"Hi, my name is Diane Bryant. I'm the principal at Pleasant Valley Elementary school. May I please speak with Mrs. Kent?"

I switched the phone to my other ear and moved James to my other hip. He was struggling, trying to slip out of my arms. "This is she."

"Oh hello, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

I hated small talk and wish she'd get to the point. I pre-heated the oven and then placed James into his high chair.

"Well, the reason I'm calling is because of your daughter, Amy."

I buckled James up and grabbed some Cheerios for him.

I recalled Amy coming home from school before going out to play with her neighborhood friends. Every day I check her folder and sign a sheet for her teacher, Mrs. Linden, to hold her accountable for her school work. Occasionally, Mrs. Linden will send notes home with reminders for field trips or asking for volunteers in the classrooms. 

"Amy? I'm sorry, I haven't gotten a note from her teacher. Is she in trouble or something?" I already knew the answer. Amy's behavior lately was all I needed to know.

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm surprised you haven't received a note. But kids these days, sometimes they'll toss them out so they don't get in trouble at home."

I sat at the table next to James and picked at a Cheerio, rolling it between my fingers. Sighing, I asked, "What'd she do?"

"Maybe it's better if you both come into my office, say, tomorrow morning?"

"I can't, I'm sorry. Can't this be discussed on the phone please?"

Mrs. Bryant hummed in disappointment. "Well, to put it plainly... Amy called Mrs. Linden a b-i-t-c-h today."

My jaw dropped. I smushed the Cheerio between my fingers and groaned.

"I am so, so sorry. Amy doesn't use that kind of language and she definitely knows better. I will talk with her."

James threw a Cheerio across the table and giggled as it bounced off the other end.

"These kinds of phone calls are never easy, but we do appreciate it if you'd have a conversation with your daughter about that kind of language." Mrs. Bryant's voice softened. "I understand that things aren't... normal... at home. I can't imagine what your family is going through, and once again, I am so sorry. Amy is a wonderful girl and I know she regrets the choices she made. I just felt you needed to know about it."

I nodded, closing my eyes. "Thank you."

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I chewed my bottom lip and stared at my lock screen. Brent sat in the center of the grassy field with James in his lap and Robbie and Amy were climbing over his back. Everyone was laughing and I smiled at the memory of receiving such precious photos for Mother's Day.

Glancing up at James I watched as he stuffed a fistful of Cheerios into his mouth. He smiled, noticing I was paying attention to him. 

"You kids will be the death of me," I teased him with a sad smile.


	10. Chapter 10

The waiting room was large and roomy, the seats spread out to provide personal space. Amy and I sat next to each other. On the opposite side of the room sat another woman with her young teenage son. I avoided eye contact as best as I could. I didn't want to appear nosy, but I was. I couldn't help but wonder what their story was.

The boy looked bored as hell. His jeans were torn up across his thighs and he wore heavy eyeliner. A large streak of blue fell heavily across his forehead, the rest of his head, shaved. He looked odd sitting next to the prim and proper older woman. I wondered if she was his mother or grandmother. She looked old enough to be either. Her hair was perfectly curled like she slept in curlers every night. She kept her legs crossed at the ankles and kept her hands on her knees, sitting up straight.

"Can I play with your phone?" Amy whispered, leaning against me.

I dug it out of my bag and handed it to her. I checked my watch for the time. We'd arrived early to fill out paper work and now it was a few minutes past our appointment time. The office had three therapists, all licensed to do sessions with kids.

I had followed through with Dr. Stephen's referral. Desperate to nip Amy's acting out in the bud before it grew too big to handle, I had called and made the first appointment available. A week later, I took her out of school early for her first afternoon appointment. If Amy was nervous, it didn't show. I think she was more thrilled to leave school earlier than her friends.

Amy scooted closer to the arm rest between us and placed her head against my arm, giggling at the Mr. Bean cartoon she was watching on my phone. I breathed in the scent of her hair and smiled, watching with her until finally, her name was called.

I squeezed Amy's shoulder quickly before glancing up. I did a double take, my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach. Standing in the door frame separating the waiting room from the offices, with a file in hand and a smirk across his face, was him. The last man to see me naked. The man who's name I'd never gotten, but knew now. Michael Fassbender. The therapist Amy was supposed to be seeing today.

His smirk soften as he saw the red appear in my cheeks. My face felt like it was burning. I cleared my throat and stood. Amy bumped my hand with my phone, giving it back to me.

"Hello, Amy," he addressed her.

Amy smiled, realizing who he was. "I remember you," she said as she looked to me for confirmation.

Amy walked ahead of me when I didn't say anything, and shook his hand.

"Mrs. Kent," he said softly, his brows raised, as he shook my hand next. "Always a pleasure to see you."

I quickly released my hand looked down at Amy. "Hannah, please. Should I stay out here, or, sorry, I've never done this before. Ever." I looked back up at him, hoping he got the hint about our hook-up. "With one of my children," I added, confusing myself.

He gave a tiny nod, but stepped back a little to guide us down the hall to his office. "I'd love to meet with both of you first, and then when Amy is comfortable, we can do one-on-one sessions."

Amy and I followed him into his office and were seated on a small but comfortable couch. His office was colorful without being overwhelming. I was instantly reminded of the beach with the pale teal walls and cream colored furniture.

A small table in the corner was geared with a basket of crayons and a stack of construction paper. Along the wall closest to it were a few framed drawings of rainbows and a mermaid.

Accents of emerald green and beige were strategically placed around the office. Two large oak bookcases were aesthetically pleasing with both books and little decorative knick knacks. I knew there was no way he'd decorated this place himself, based on what I'd seen at his own place.

"How's your day going so far, Amy?" Michael asked as he took a seat across from us in a chair matching our couch. A round table separated us with a bowl of Skittles in the center. I could see Amy eyeing them.

Amy shrugged and smiled. "Okay I guess. I got to leave school early to come here."

Michael looked puzzled. "School? Like summer school?"

"It's a year round type of school," I explained.

"Oh, Valley View? I've heard a lot of good things about that place. Are you enjoying your classes?" He placed the closed file down on the table between us and rested his elbows on his knees, relaxing into a conversation with Amy about school.

I hardly said a word. Amy was more than happy to speak for herself and I sat back in awe, wondering why she had to grow up so fast.

Michael spoke to both of us, but mainly directed his questions to Amy. She asked if she was allowed to have some candy and we both nodded. She took a tiny handful and ate them one by one.

"If you're in third grade you must be, what, nine years old?"

"Not yet. My birthday's in a few weeks though!" She sat up straight and smiled at me before something flash through her mind, causing her to drop her gaze.

I furrowed my brow. Michael also noticed the sudden change in demeanor.

"I'm a fan of birthdays. Are you doing anything special?" He asked her.

"No, not really. We used to go to the zoo and then out to dinner. Even if it was a school day, I'd skip school. But I don't want to anymore."

Of course. Her first birthday without Brent. I felt like an idiot for not seeing this coming. I wasn't the only one grieving here.

"Why's that? It sounds like a lot of fun," Michael asked, doing his job.

I had explained to the receptionist when making the appointment that Amy had recently lost her father. I felt that was something that was necessary to know beforehand. Looking intently at Michael as he waited for Amy's response, I hoped he had been told. Was it there, in her file? I glanced down at the table, wishing for secret dormant super powers like x-ray vision to suddenly kick in.

"Just don't feel like it."

I swallowed a lump. I felt the need to interject but held back. It seemed important to let her emotions come naturally instead of with my help. I breathed as steadily as I could.

"Is there something else you'd rather do instead?"

Amy shook her head softly.

She had shut down and wouldn't say more than a word or two at a time for the rest of the appointment.

I handed Amy my phone and asked her to wait in the waiting room for me.

Michael and I both stood and watched as she walked out, unlocking my phone to play with. The door slowly closed behind her.

I felt Michael behind me and I wrapped my arms around myself, turning to face him. His eyes slowly made their way up to my own and he shared a soft smile.

"She's a great kid," he offered.

I nodded, grinning, proud of her. "She really is. I'm assuming it's in her file...? Her dad?"

He glanced down at the table and nodded. "It's there. I didn't want to push it. Over time, hopefully, she'll open up and tell me. Her birthdays hold a lot of memories of him, huh?"

"I feel so stupid. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? With her birthday coming up?"

He raised his brows and frowned. "It's possible, but it could be a lot of things. Underlining issues she doesn't know how to express yet."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine coming on. "Is this inappropriate?" I looked back up at him.

"Hmm?" He cocked his head, but I could tell he knew what I meant.

"You seeing her when we've... we, you know. Isn't there some sort of code against that?"

He dropped his arms to his sides and took a step toward me. "We what?"

There was a playful tone in his voice. I brought a hand up between us. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

He raised his chin, looking down at me, studying me. "As far as I know, Hannah, this is the first time we've officially met. There's nothing to worry about. I'd be honored to keep meeting with you and Amy, and eventually, if you're both comfortable, phase into one-on-ones with Amy to help process her grief."

I chewed my lip at the sound of my name coming from him. His eyes darted to my mouth and I turned away. "So we'll be professional then?"

"Of course. I want to help."

I nodded, but felt a small tinge of disappointment.


	11. Chapter 11

"Amy, this is NOT okay, and it needs to stop! Please! I thought we were making progress?" I tossed the results of her latest spelling test down onto the kitchen table, disappointed. She knew these words. She was a smart girl and I went over every word with her. There was no way she failed the test doing her best. This was on purpose and somehow, to spite me, I just knew it.

"Sorry! I'll practice more next time." Amy sulked in the kitchen chair, refusing to make eye contact with me. 

I shook my head in disbelief. I've been with her for two more appointments since the first time we met with Michael. She was enjoying going but always ended up withdrawing towards the end of each session. Michael seemed to think progress was being made, but with her behavior at school, I couldn't be so sure.

That evening, I dug out the card Dr. Stephens had given me when she first mentioned him. I held it to my chest for a while before calling the cell number listed at the bottom instead of the office. Butterflies filled my stomach as I held my cell phone out to punch in the numbers. I don't know why my brain was freaking out on me. I'm only calling to discuss Amy. He himself even told me to call for any reason.

The boys were both asleep after a long fight getting them to eat their dinner. After doing my best to make a well-rounded meal, complete with proper protein and vegetables, it ended in the trash and everyone got corn dogs. I didn't care, as long as they'd stop crying and go to bed with food in their bellies. My nerves were frazzled. I needed peace and quiet. Amy was in her bedroom watching a movie until she would fall asleep.

Sitting against the headboard of my king size bed, I took a deep breath and pressed the last digit. The other line rang and I ended up holding my breath. 

"Hello?" He answered after two rings. Music played in the background.

I smiled and shook my head, feeling silly. "Hi, it's Hannah Kent. I'm sorry to bother you on a Friday night."

"Hi Hannah." Whatever noise was surrounding him ceased. "It's not a problem. How are you?"

Butterflies.

His voice was smooth and I closed my eyes imagining him next to me. 

"I'm okay. How are you?"

He chuckled. "I'm great. I'm surprised you're calling. Or is this a professional call?"

I rolled my eyes but smirked. "Completely professional. It's about Amy. I know she's purposely failing her tests at school and I don't know how to get through to her."

"Oh? She's a smart kid. What kind of tests are these?"

I had her third failed test next to me on the bed and picked it up, looking over it. "Spelling. All words she knows. It's frustrating but I'm trying not to get angry at her."

"Do you want to bring her in tomorrow morning?"

I take in a deep breath and think. "I thought you weren't there on Saturdays?"

"I'm not, but bring her. Is 9 o'clock okay? Maybe it's time for one-on-one sessions. If you're ready?"

"Honestly, I trust you, I'm just... I want to know everything she has to say, you know? She's my baby girl. She should be able to talk to me."

A gruff noise came from his side. "I understand, but if your presence is keeping her from opening up more, then I can't do my job. I need to be able to reach her without any walls up."

"Fuck. Sorry," I groaned.

He chuckled. "It's okay. I know it's frustrating, trust me."

I wiped away a tear from my cheek, not even realizing I had begun crying. "This whole process sucks. I feel like I'm going in circles. I try to wake up with a positive outlook, then shit happens to remind me I'm all alone in all this, that Brent is gone. Half of me is gone," I sob, disgusted with how I sound.

"You must give yourself some credit Hannah. Take a good look at yourself right now. Where are your kids?"

"In bed."

"Did they eat today?"

"Yes."

"Did you?"

"Yes..." I think I did.

"Then you're doing great. You are so much stronger than you think you are. Give yourself the credit you deserve."

I rested my head back on the headboard, closing my eyes. "Thank you."

"See me tomorrow."

"Hmm?"

"Nine in the morning?" He asked.

I brushed away a tear with the back of my hand. "Oh right. Okay, we'll be there. I'll have to drop the boys off at my sister's on the way but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Perfect. I'll get us some coffee since Debby won't be there to make a shitty pot." I could hear his smile on the other side and it made me laugh.

I let out a soft sigh. "Thank you. See you tomorrow."

"I'm glad you called, Hannah. Good night."

"Night. Bye."

I ended the call and moved down the bed until my head hit the pillows. My face was wet. I fell asleep instantly, the bedside table lamp still on until Amy came in to check on me. Her soft foot steps woke me but I didn't move. I heard the soft click of the lamp and felt a kiss on my cheek.

I waited a few minutes after the bedroom door closed before silently weeping.

****

Robbie took off the second I unbuckled him from the van. "Don't trip," I called after him as I began to unbuckle James.

"Stuff?" James asked, recognizing where we were. I smiled at his cuteness and kissed his cheeks as I lifted him into my arms.

"Yes, we're at Stuff's house," I laughed at his name for my sister. I didn't want to correct it for fear it'd make him grow up faster.

Amy stayed in her seat, a book in her lap she was only half interested in.

At the front door, Robbie was busy ringing the doorbell over and over. "Robbie, stop, that's enough," I scolded him.

Robbie beamed, proud of himself.

My poor sister, not used to being up so early on a Saturday morning, came to the door with sleep still in her eyes. "Hello my babies!" Pushing the screen door open, Robbie slipped passed her, excited to hang out with Steph's husband Scott on his day off. 

"Uncle Scott is still asleep, Robbie, but we'll wake him in a few minutes, okay? I'll make him go get us some donuts." Steph laughed at Robbie's disappointed groan. "You can ride with him if you want."

Stephanie winked at me and held out her arms for James. James threw himself at her and immediately waved goodbye to me.

"Well, okay then," I laughed. "Thank you, Steph."

"Sure thing! Tell Amy I love her and I'll see her when you get back."

I felt guilty for asking her to take the kids earlier on a Saturday. Shelby and I had plans for a spa day at 11, but Dad and Georgia were out of town for the weekend and I had no one else to watch the boys during today's session.

"Sorry about bringing them earlier. Are you sure you're okay keeping them for so long? I can reschedule with Shelby. I know she won't mind."

Steph shook her head. "Stop, it's fine. I love having the babies. Scott's going to blow up the pool out back for them to splash around in and Amy and I can have our own spa day here! But next time you need a break, invite me please?"

I frowned and groaned. "Aw, Steph, I'm sorry, of course I will. You're not helping my guilt right now," I laughed.

She grinned and winked. "Go, or you'll be late. See you soon."

Back in the van, I buckled up and pulled out of the drive.

I peered in the rearview mirror, glancing back at Amy, who was now writing away in a notebook. 

"What are you writing, sweetie?"

She looked up at me and just shrugged. "Nothing. Just writing."

She was getting harder to talk to. I didn't want to force a conversation, especially since I had hoped she'd be talkative with Michael today.

Pulling into the parking lot of the office building, I parked near the door where Michael stood, unlocking it. He held a box of donuts under his arm with a drink carrier carrying two coffees and a bottle of chocolate milk. After unlocking the door he looked back at us and acknowledged us with a nod of his head. Pocketing his keys, he righted the box of donuts and smiled as we got out of the van.

"Good morning, ladies."

"Is that for us?" Amy wondered out loud.

"Maybe," Michael grinned, holding the door open for us. "Come on in."

I placed my purse onto a chair and noticed Amy brought in her book and notebook. She tossed them onto the chair with my purse and turned back to Michael. 

"Did you get chocolate?" She was up on her toes, trying to peer into the closed box.

"Chocolate? Gross." Michael teased. "Of course there's chocolate. I'm not a monster."

He handed the box to Amy so he could lock the front door and the three of us headed to his office. 

Michael tossed Amy her chocolate milk and laughed as she struggled to catch it, laughing with him. 

"Please don't toss my coffee," I joked.

Michael pulled a coffee from the carrier and closed the distance between us and handed it to me. "Good morning." He half smiled and I felt my stomach knot up.

"Thank you," I said softly as I took it from him, my fingers brushing his.

"I hope cream and sugar is okay? If not, I have black if you want to trade."

I took a small sip, loving the warmth invading my mouth. "Mmm, no, it's perfect. Thank you."

Amy already had the box of donuts open and eagerly pulled out a chocolate cake donut with sprinkles. "Want one, Mom?"

I declined and took another drink of coffee, realizing Michael was still looking at me as he sipped his own.

He cleared his throat and half sat, half leaned against his desk. "Amy, what do you say we kick your mom out and chat for a bit?"

"Just me?" Amy asked, looking up at me.

I smiled, encouragingly. "It's fine with me if you're ready."

"Yeah, okay. I guess so." She took another bite of her donut, crumbs falling onto the napkin she held beneath her chin. She sat on the couch and I took that as my cue to leave.

I pointed out the door. "Okay, well, I'll just go wait out there."

"Great," Michael grinned. "It won't take long."

Sitting in the chair next to my purse, I scrolled through Facebook on my phone as I sipped my coffee. I grew bored of everyone's constant status posts complaining about being sick with a cold, or about how hot it was.

I rolled my head back, stretching my neck out. Amy's notebook caught my eye. Curiosity got the best of me and I picked it up. Tossing the cover open, I read over her writing. It didn't make much sense. I did feel like I was doing something wrong though. She wrote about Bailey, and about a boy in her class, Henry, whom I knew she had a crush on. On one page, she was in love with him. On another, she hated him because he was mean. Then she loved him again. I had to laugh. I closed the cover and was about to place it back on the chair when something stopped me. Opening it again, I saw the word "frequently" written on the most current page. One of her spelling words which she had gotten wrong the day before.

I shook my head and closed the notebook, feeling annoyed. Why on earth would she purposely fail her test? I really hoped Michael was getting something out of her. Anything. I knew it would take time and more than a single one-on-one session, but patience was never really my thing. I hated to wait.

Ten chapters into Amy's book from school about a magic cat, I sat up straight as I heard Michael and Amy laughing. They were done and had opened the door. They came into the waiting room and Amy smiled.

"Hey Mom." She grabbed her book and notebook and held them close to her chest.

"Can we talk for a second?" Michael looked at me, angling his head toward his office.

He closed the door behind us and I took a seat. He sat himself across from me. His jeans tightened at his thighs and I quickly glanced away. 

"She talked a lot, Hannah. I'm really happy you guys came in today, thank you. Now obviously, I can't tell you anything we've discussed, but I don't believe there is anything you need to be worried about. She's sorting through her anger, but I believe she's on track with her grief."

I let out a sigh of relief. "So this act of rebellion, it's just her dealing with her grief?"

He nodded, his eyes a little sad. "Unfortunately, yes. She sure does love you though. She feels responsible for you, I think. And that's a lot of weight to carry for an eight-year-old."

I chewed on my lower lip, nodding, trying to process his words. "Yeah, no you're right. It is."

"You're seeing Dr. Stephens, right?"

I glanced back up at him and nodded again. "I am. She's been great."

"Good. What are you up to today?"

His question caught me off guard. I cleared my throat. "I have plans with a friend. The kids will be with my sister all afternoon."

"That sounds nice. Recharge yourself a little. You look lovely, by the way."

I blushed and scoffed. "Thanks?"

"You do. You have a glow today."

I narrowed my eyes, confused.

"And now your cheeks are pink. It's a good look."

"Okay, time for me to go," I let out a laugh.

He stood with me and followed me to the door.

"I'm assuming she'll resume her normal sessions every two weeks?" I turned to face him once I reached the door.

His hand reached behind me, cupping the back of my head. I held my breath as he gently pressed his forehead against mine. Our eyes closed and we just stood there, shakily breathing into one another. My hands rested against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as he breathed heavily. 

"I can't stop thinking about you, Hannah." I opened my eyes and he opened his. I could see he was fighting back what he really wanted to say. "Shit," he dropped his hands from me and stepped back. 

A shudder escaped my lips as I had to remember how to breathe correctly. 

"I'm sorry, Hannah," he scratched the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling. 

I ignored his apology. "Every two weeks?" I asked again.

He dropped his hand, raising his brow, not sure if he heard me correctly.

"Starting back on Wednesday? Every two weeks?"

A curt nod in agreement, and he opened the door. "Yes, that's right." 

"Look, I appreciate all your help. But Amy is too important to me. I can't even think straight right now. I really think you'll be able to help her and I don't want to do anything to fuck that up, you know?"

"Of course. No, you're right. I'm sorry."

I gave a small smile. "Don't apologize. Please. If things were different..." I let my thoughts trail off. I really couldn't think straight. I knew I needed to get out of there. More than anything I wanted to collapse into his arms, but I couldn't.


	12. Chapter 12

Carefully stepping down the step-ladder, I glanced up at my work, making sure the Happy Birthday banner was straight enough for my liking. I decided it was and just then two small arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Reaching back and chuckling, I squeezed Amy to me in a hug.

"Are you excited?" I asked her when she released me and stood to my side, appraising my work.

I woke up before Robbie and James to make sure I could get as much done as possible before they made it more difficult to focus on the task of turning the house into a birthday zone. I had hid the balloons in the garage the evening before when Steph came to babysit while I knocked stuff off my to-do list. They now coated the ceiling, their streamers swaying just above my head. I had strategically tied a few to the bannister of the stairway and the entryway as well. Pink, purple, and teal streamers draped over the entrance to each room as well as the back door leading to the bouncy house, rented by my Dad. A large canopy tent was also rented and set up along with the bouncy house, fitting perfectly in the fenced in backyard. Steph and I set up a few tables in the shade of the tent and sprinkled star shaped confetti on the tops.

"Yesss," Amy beamed happily, bouncing on the heels of her bare feet. "I can't wait for Bailey and Katie to see the bouncy house!"

For now, Steph and her husband Scott had the boys in the backyard, getting them used to the bouncy house before other kids showed up, making it more difficult for them to figure out how to jump in it. I glanced out the back window and saw my sister and Scott actually inside with them, laughing just as much as the boys, and I smiled.

"Mom?" Amy asked, opening the fridge to look at her birthday cake for the millionth time today, "Did Henry's mom say he was coming?"

I wanted to hug her. She had already asked twice this morning. "Yes, baby, he'll be here. And if he doesn't show up, that's his problem not ours! Can you imagine missing out on this amazing party?" I extended my arm to the backyard and Amy's eyes followed.

She smiled and hugged herself. "I love you, Mom."

I nudged her chin gently with my elbow and kissed the top of her head. "Now let me finish before people start showing up."

Amy ran out the back door to jump with her brothers and I watched them all for a few minutes, feeling a little envious of how carefree everyone looked. Steph and Scott looked like their parents, the five of them a perfect little family. For a second I saw myself and Brent in place of them, laughing with each other, holding hands.

Then Robbie and James bonked their heads against one another and I was snapped back to reality hearing their screaming cries. I ran out the back door as Scott was sliding out of the bouncy house with James on his lap.

"They collided pretty hard," Scott gave an apologetic grimace.

"Poor babies," I frowned, taking James from him. "It's okay," I soothed him as best as I could, kissing his forehead.

Robbie came running over, tears in his eyes, wrapping his arms around my leg. "James ran into me!" he cried out between sobs.

I knelt down onto my knees and hugged both of them. I kissed Robbie's forehead gently and he began rubbing it.

"It won't be the last time, I'm afraid," I smiled at him. "You okay?"

Robbie wiped away a fat tear and reluctantly nodded.

"I not okay," James whimpered. "Him hurted ear."

Turning to face James, I looked him over. "Which one?"

James pointed to his right ear with big puppy dog eyes.

I dramatically gasped, "Oh no, not that one," I looked over to Robbie in shock before looking back to James. Both the boys began to giggle. "That's my favorite one!"

It was something Brent always used to do when one of the kids got hurt. If Amy got a papercut on a finger, "Not that one, that's my favorite one!" always made each of the kids laugh through the tears, and soon life carried on again.

Giving James and Robbie another quick kiss, I made sure they were okay before they both ran back to Steph and Scott, eager to start jumping again. Steph lifted James up and once Scott was back inside with all three kids, she made her way to me.

"They're walking bricks," she joked.

"Tell me about it." I checked my watch, wondering if now would be a good time to start getting out the fruit and veggie trays.

"Scott's got them. Need me to do anything?"

Guests were meant to arrive in about fifteen minutes, so we started setting up the food on the counter of the island in the kitchen.

Dad and Georgia were the first to arrive, with a small stack of beautifully wrapped presents. Georgia always went the extra mile when it came to wrapping gifts. It was an art. I directed them into the living room to place the gifts on the hearth of the fireplace.

Georgia joined me in the kitchen, opening the veggie trays and making sure everything looked presentable. Dad went out back after giving me a kiss on the cheek and I laughed as I watched him struggle to climb into the bouncy house after James begged him to.

"So, Hannah," Georgia kept her eyes on her work as she spoke. "Stephanie says you've invited a man?"

I closed my eyes, feeling my ears turning red at the tips. I slowly glanced up, meeting Steph's eyes. She sucked her lower lip in and widened her eyes, shrugging. She mouthed 'sorry' before stacking the plastic butterfly covered cups next to the ice bucket.

"No, actually," I corrected her. "I mean, yes, he's a man, but Amy is the one who invited him. He's her therapist and they've become buddies. He might not even show up, I don't know. I told him it was fine if he didn't, considering he's treating her and all. Wouldn't it be kind of unprofessional? I don't know," I rambled.

Georgia and Steph had both stopped what they were doing and just stared at me.

"He's really nice and he's been wonderful for Amy. I told her he'd probably say no, but he seemed genuinely touched to be invited, so I don't know." I took a breath and looked up at them.

They both smiled, knowingly.

I changed the subject quickly. "I need to go get the presents from under my bed. I'll be right back."

Sighing, I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, sorting myself out. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, feeling ridiculous. I shouldn't have prattled on because now they definitely were not going to let it go.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. I dug the gifts out from under the bed and made my way back downstairs to welcome the guests.

•••

The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly and I felt the heat of it on my skin. I made sure each child was lathered up with sunscreen and that each one had a clearly marked cup full of cold water when they tired of jumping and needed a break. Including my own kids, there were a total of eight, including Henry, the boy Amy was so worried about. I loved seeing her cheeks turn pink when he ran out into the backyard to say 'Happy Birthday' to her.

None of the parents stayed, which was actually how I preferred it. I assured them everyone would be well taken care of and made sure they left their numbers with me just in case of emergencies.

Henry and another boy from Amy's class, Hunter, sat in the shade looking over the Pokemon cards Hunter had brought with him. Amy and her other friends were in the bouncy house and my own two boys were busy blowing bubbles, having gotten fed up with the girls' playful shrieks.

Uncle John and Aunt Debbie arrived with a small pink bicycle in tow, a fancy bow tied onto the handlebars. They parked it in front of the fireplace and Uncle John planted a kiss on my forehead before taking a seat under the tent. Debbie gave me a hug and joined him.

Twenty minutes had passed but it felt like an hour and I had long forgotten all about Michael having been invited, until he came around the side of the house, opening the gate to the backyard. A gift was tucked under his arm and he wore a dark green polo shirt with jeans and a pair of dark sunglasses. He was clean-shaven and looked like he had stepped directly out of a cologne ad.

I heard Amy shout from the bouncy house as she jumped out and ran up to him. I stood from the table I'd been seated at with my family and made my way up to him in the grass.

He gave Amy a quick hug before she took the present and ran into the house with it.

"I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I figured I'd try my luck in the backyard." He smiled. "I was worried I'd gotten the wrong address."

I crossed my arms across my chest, feeling the eyes of my family on the two of us.

"I"m sorry, I should have left the backdoor open to listen for it. How are you?"

"I'm doing great, you?"

I glanced back at the bouncy house before answering. "Keeping busy," I chuckled.

"I can see that," he smiled, looking towards the boys blowing bubbles. "I shouldn't stay for too long, in fact I shouldn't have come at all, but I really wanted to get Amy a gift at least and tell her 'Happy Birthday.'"

Georgia, sneaky and flirty Georgia, surprised me suddenly by being next to us.

"Oh no, darling, you must stay! We have plenty of food, and a pinata to hang up and smash soon," she wrapped an arm around his, patting his bicep.

"Michael, this is Georgia, my Step-mom. Georgia, this is Michael. Amy has been seeing him for grief counseling for, what, two months now?"

Michael nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he grinned, looking down at Georgia.

"Pleasure is all mine. Come this way, I'll put you to work. We need a man to hang the pinata on the tree branch. The men here are useless. Hannah, why don't you introduce them to him while I go get the pinata from the garage."

Georgia had dragged him under the tent before running off into the house. Steph stood immediately, stretching out her arm across the table.

"I'm the sister, Steph. Or Aunt Stuff, as the kids like to call me."

Michael smirked, looking back at me. I smiled sheepishly as one by one, my family introduced themselves to him.

Amy ran back up and grabbed his hand. "You've gotta jump! It's so fun!"

"Who are you?" Robbie joined us, standing next to me, accidentally spilling bubble solution into the grass.

"Hey bud," Michael hunkered down, holding out a hand. "I'm Michael. You must be Robbie, huh?"

Robbie stuck a sticky hand into his, nodding.

"I thought so. Amy has told me a lot about you. You're the artist of the family, aren't you?"

Robbie beamed, looking up at me. "I am!"

"Come on," Amy tugged Michael again. "Come jump!"

Michael stood and shrugged. "I guess I'm staying," he smiled.

"I guess so," I laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

Amy and Bailey picked at the last of the fruit leftover on the fruit tray as I collected all the empty cups around the house. Michael had gathered all the wrapping paper discarded by Amy while the boys ran in circles around his feet. Dad and Georgia had begun to fold down the tables outside while Scott turned off the blower to the bouncy house, watching it slowly deflate.

I had missed this; this sense of family.

I boxed up the rest of the cake after keeping a few pieces out for everyone else to take home.

A knock at the door made Bailey grumble. "Guess my mom's here."

I smirked at her and went to let Shelby in. Michael and the boys were play fighting with the wrapping paper, throwing balls of it at one another. He looked up as I passed through and quickly tossed one in my face. I caught it, laughing, and threw it back, escaping before being hit again.

"Hey, hon, how did the party go?" Shelby gave me a quick hug and I closed the door behind her.

We chit-chatted about the party and she was delighted to hear Amy loved the make-up kit Bailey had gotten her.

"Hi Miss Shelby," Robbie ran up, tossing a ball of wrapping paper at her.

It bounced off her hip and Robbie picked it up and ran off.

"Need help cleaning up?" She dropped her purse to the bench in the entryway.

I waved my hand, dismissing her offer. "We're nearly done, but thanks. I've put some pieces of cake on a plate for you and Bailey to take home."

Together we headed toward the kitchen and once again I was attacked by a ball of colorful gift wrap. "Alright boys, time to grab a trash bag and clean up for real now," I laughed.

"Hello," Shelby said politely as we passed Michael and the kids.

"Hi," he grinned.

I picked up the plate of cake and carefully wrapped it in plastic wrap, hoping the frosting wouldn't get too smooshed.

Shelby stood directly next to me, giving me no elbow room and I looked at her, confused about her lack of respect for personal space.

"Who. Is. That." She asked as quietly as she could.

I gave her a half smile and continued my work on the cake. "Amy's therapist. She invited him and he came. His name is Michael and he's really nice. Shall I introduce the two of you?"

Shelby's eyes widened. "He didn't even look at me until I said 'hello.' His eyes were following the shimmy of your hips, Hannah," she elbowed me.

I scoffed. "I did not shimmy."

"Fine, the sashay."

I had to laugh. "Whatever. Put this away." I handed her the roll of plastic wrap.

She swatted me on the butt with the tube before crossing to the other side of the kitchen. Leaning back, she looked out into the living room quickly.

I shook my head and wiped down the island's counter.

Dad and Georgia came inside and Robbie immediately attacked them with wrapping paper balls. James had begun to tear the paper up into the smallest pieces he could manage. I went into the living room to help finish up, holding open a trash bag. Michael stuffed it and even talked James into helping. James pinched the little pieces between his fingers then ran up and threw them inside.

Steph and Scott then joined us from outside, a trash bag full of paper plates and cups in Steph's hand. She handed it to Scott, who then proceeded to finish the job by taking the bag and mine, now filled with gift wrap, to the garage to be tossed into the trash bin.

Everyone looked like they had gotten sun. Steph wrapped her arms around Amy from behind, bending over her and kissing her cheek.

"Happy Birthday, crazy girl. I hope you had a great time!"

Everyone began saying their goodbyes. Dad and Georgia left first, followed by Scott and Steph. Uncle John and Aunt Debbie had left before presents were opened since Aunt Debbie had to get to her shift at the diner downtown.

The kids were sugared up but would soon be crashing. James had already begun yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Bailey grabbed her goodie bag filled with candy from the pinata, which Michael had ended up taking charge of. He got it hung up perfectly and made sure none of the kids got hit in the head with the bat we had gotten out of Brent's softball bag in the garage.

Shelby kissed my cheek goodbye after Steph left and made sure to say goodbye to Michael before walking out the door. She gave me a very pointed look as I closed the door.

'That's enough of that.'

It was only 4:30pm, but my stomach was growling and my energy was drained. Ordering a pizza sounded like the best idea. Walking into the living room, Robbie and James were climbing over Michael's back as he sat on the couch. He just laughed and hovered his hands over them in case one of them fell. Amy was busy begging him to allow her to put make-up on him.

"Oh-ho, I don't think so," he laughed loudly. "Not today anyway. I have somewhere to be tonight and no time to wash my face."

Amy acted offended, "So you're saying I wouldn't do a good job?"

"No, I'm saying I want this lady to like me," he laughed again.

"What lady? Mom?" Robbie asked loudly.

"Robbie, get off of him before you hurt him. You're a lot heavier than you think." I reached for him, to help him down.

"You like him, don't you Mom?" Robbie asked once he was upright and back on the floor.

Michael chuckled. "Not your mom, kiddo. A different lady, but yeah, I want your mom to like me too."

"And I do," I replied, feeling awkward. What a weird conversation, but leave it to kids to get you stuck in one.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," Michael directed to Amy, roughly patting her head. "You got a good haul," he stood, motioning to the stack of gifts sprawled over the hearth of the fireplace.

He checked for his phone and wallet by patting his pockets before pulling his sunglasses out of the V of his shirt. "Thanks for letting me stay," he smiled.

"I don't think I had much choice, but I'm really glad you did."

Amy yelled at Robbie for touching one of her new toys and Robbie pouted. James just sat on the couch looking dazed, like he'd fall over any second and start snoring.

I walked Michael to the front door, thanking him again for coming. "Have a good time on your date." I tried to sound sincere but it may have sounded bitter. I really did hope he would have a good time though. Why shouldn't he?

Michael raised his chin and chuckled before giving me a big smile. "Don't worry. Not a date. I'm visiting my Grandmother in the nursing home. She has alzheimer's and never remembers me when I first show up. Hence why I want her to like me."

I blushed, embarrassed, but also feeling like I fell into his trap. "I wasn't... worried," I laughed humorlessly. "You should date."

"So should you," he countered, raising a brow.

"Michael," I said softly, glancing back toward the living room to make sure the kids weren't in earshot. "I'm not ready. I don't even know if I'll ever be. And after that night, when you and I," I lowered my voice, "you know. I freaked out. I haven't even been able to talk to Dr. Stephens about that."

Michael nodded, understanding. "I know now that wasn't your typical night out. Wasn't mine either. I don't regret a thing though. And you have nothing to be upset about. You clearly needed a friend that night and got me instead."

He looked a little hurt and gave me a small smile.

"You were a friend, a great one. Are, are a great friend. Shit, I don't know what you are. But it can't go past friends anymore. It killed me. I felt so dirty and horrible. Brent may be dead, but he's still my husband." I could feel the tears prickling and swallowed hard.

Robbie shouted from the living room and Amy laughed. I knew she had done something to Robbie to aggravate him, but I needed to finish this conversation.

Michael stepped toward me, furrowing his brow. "Hannah, why? You left so suddenly, I had no way to reach you. You cried into my arms all night and passed out in the bed. But we didn't have sex, if that's what you're worried about."

I felt like I'd been slapped. Or splashed with ice cold water.

"We didn't?"

He shook his head. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was hoping we would. But the second you started crying and talking about Brent, I couldn't not listen to you and take care of you."

"So, we didn't have sex," I asked, trying my best to remember that night. I clearly couldn't hold my liquor.

"We didn't."

"But you wanted to?"

He laughed in spite of himself. "Well, yeah. Before I realized what was going on, of course. When you and Amy came in the first time, it all made sense. I hope you don't feel like I took advantage of you, Hannah. That's not me."

I crossed my arms, hugging myself. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"I probably just made you feel like shit."

He smirked. "Not at all. And as far as rejections go, that wasn't the worst I've experienced," he joked.

"Mom!" Robbie yelled, running towards us. He had on bright pink lipstick and dark blue eyeshadow, all around his eyes. "Amy made me pretty!"

"Wow, she did a great job," Michael complimented him. He returned his eyes to mine. "If you need a friend, any kind of friend, I can be him."

He opened the door and Robbie and I watched him walk down the front path. He gave us one final wave before driving off.

I closed the door and locked it.

Robbie looked up at me with his big brown eyes caked in blue powder and I laughed. "Right. Let's go get you washed off."

I quickly ordered a cheese pizza for the kids before Robbie and I went into the master bathroom so I could use my make-up wipes to clean him off. James had passed out on the couch and I left him there for now, waiting for him to be in a deep sleep before moving him. Amy had followed us, her new fancy make-up kit in hand.

Robbie wriggled on the counter as I tried my hardest to remove as much of the blue and pink as I could. His face was a full on mess now but I found myself not really caring.

"Sorry, Mom," Amy said as she sat on the toilet lid watching us.

"Hmm? No, it's fine. Just ask next time."

Amy looked like she wanted to say something. I watched her reflection in the mirror as I took another wipe and took my own make-up off.

"I don't really want the make-up," she finally said softly. "Do I have to keep it?"

"Can I have it?!" asked a very suddenly excited Robbie.

"No," I said to him, before turning around to face Amy. "No, you don't have to keep it, but your best friend gave it to you. Why don't you want it?"

Amy shrugged. "It's stupid. I don't want it."

"How about you put it under the sink in your bathroom for now. Maybe tomorrow you'll want it and you'd be sad if you threw it out."

Amy stood, looking annoyed. "No Mom. I don't want it. It's a stupid gift and I hate Bailey." She threw the whole kit on the tile floor, keeping her eyes on me, challenging me.

"Amy Christine!" My jaw dropped. "You're cleaning this up," I growled at her.

Downstairs, James cried, having woken up to find himself alone.

'Fan-fucking-tastic.'


End file.
